


Alleycats and Billionaires

by widowbitesandhearingaids



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-02-24 00:06:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 75,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2560736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/widowbitesandhearingaids/pseuds/widowbitesandhearingaids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Selina Kyle has nothing to do with Bruce Wayne. She's a thief, he's a billionaire. He lives in a palace and she lives in a single-bedroom apartment in the worst neighborhood in the city. But opposites attract, and before they were Catwoman and Batman, they were Selina and Bruce. All love stories have to start somewhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The phenomenal Lena](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+phenomenal+Lena).



> These characters are property of DC comics. 
> 
> This whole fic is loosely based on the Gotham TV show, with a five year timeskip. In this universe, Selina never made came forward with information on the Wayne murders. Also, because messing with timelines is my new favorite thing to do, Selina is nineteen and Bruce is eighteen, making her fourteen and him thirteen when Thomas and Martha Wayne were killed.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr!  
> widowbitesandhearingaids.tumblr.com

The collar of Bruce Wayne’s suit was too tight. Probably because it was an old suit, one he hadn’t worn since his seventeenth birthday almost a year ago. Huffing, he loosened his tie and pulled at the suit, cursing the whole event. Charity auctions were not his idea of a fun-filled afternoon. He hadn’t even wanted to come, but Alfred had insisted. Something about “doing the duties that come with your last name, Master Wayne,” and “making appearances. We wouldn’t want people to talk, now would we?” Bruce didn’t care if people talked. And besides, he was the billionaire orphan whose parents had been murdered in front of him; gossip was inevitable.

The auction itself was boring, just like he’d expected. Blake Manor was swarmed with press, all fawning on them for their good deeds. Technically, the auction was to raise money for defunded after school programs in the Narrows, but everyone there knew that it was just a publicity stunt. The whole thing was goddamn media circus and after just an hour, Bruce was already feeling stifled and claustrophobic.

“Feeling alright, Mr. Wayne?” one of the staff asked when Bruce tried to slip out the back. He’d never liked crowds, not to mention paparazzi, and the nauseating mix of both was making it hard to breathe.

“Just looking to get some air,” Bruce replied, pinning on the sincere smile that had gotten him out of prying questions for five years. The man nodded curtly and Bruce swept past him, down a long hallway and up a staircase, praying for a door that led outside. Despite getting out of the crowd, it was still too hot, and the stagnant air turned the hallway into a tomb.

 _Give me the money_! The masked man ordered, pointing a gun at his father. It was black, shiny and heavy, with a long muzzle. A silencer. Bruce froze in place, thirteen again and too scared to move.

 _Easy there_ , his father said in the even, cool tone he reserved for stubborn clients and bullheaded board members. _Take it_. For what felt like the millionth time, Bruce watched the gun swivel to point at his mother.

 _Pearls_. The order was barked and his mother obeyed without question. The gunman snatched at the necklace with greedy fingers and one of the three strands snapped, spilling pearls onto the dirty street. They bounced once, twice, three times, pounding against the pavement and then there was a muffled popping and blood – blood everywhere. So much blood, staining elegant dresses and suit jackets, pooling on the wet pavement and painting white pearls red.

Then a voice, a girl’s voice, speaking to him softly. _Hey_ , it said, cutting through the ringing in his ears. Urgent, but not unkind. _Hey, you need to snap out of it. You’re having a panic attack. Hey!”_ A panic attack. Bruce was no stranger to those, but he hadn’t had one in months. Almost six months, to be exact. Alfred had actually commented on it a few days before, noting it as good progress… _Wake up._

Cool hands gripped the sides of his face, blessed relief from the humidity of the night – the hall. The sudden cold snapped Bruce out of his own mind and he blinked rapidly, allowing reality to filter back in. He was on his knees, unaware of falling, and he quickly swiped at the tears that had collected on his lower lashes before they could dampen his cheeks. That had been bad. Bruce hadn’t had an attack like that in long, long time. Five years ago, when it was still fresh, he’d suffered from night terrors, reliving the event over and over. Sometimes, like today, the nightmares filtered into his waking hours. Grief counselors and therapists, a whole legion of them, had predictably diagnosed him with PTSD and promised that his mind would heal in time. With time, and several sleep medications and anti-psychotics that Bruce never took.

Never, not once, had anyone been able to get through to him when it got this bad. The doctors said that it was like trying to wake a sleepwalker: Dangerous and nearly impossible. He’d always been told that the best thing to do was to simply ride it out. Bruce decided he preferred being snapped out of it.

“Thank you – ” Bruce started before he realized that he was alone. “Hello?” For a moment he thought that he’d imagined the whole thing, that the girl’s voice was an invention to help him cope. But no, when he touched his fingers to his cheeks, they were definitely cooler than the rest of his face. Proof – if insubstantial – that there had been someone there with him.

Bruce stood shakily and set off down the hallway at random, hoping that he wasn’t going the wrong way. There was a flash of movement at the end of the hall and Bruce called out again, to no reply.

"What…” he said, poking his head into the only cracked door he could find. “What are you doing?” A single figure stoof in the corner, silhouetted by light that Bruce realized too late that was coming from the inside of a safe. A safe that was open and – now – empty. It took him too long to understand. A thief? Here?

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Bruce recognized her voice, but he couldn’t see her face, it was too obscured by shadows. The safe closed, plunging the room into complete darkness, and before Bruce could react, something shoved him aside, nearly knocking him over.

“Hey!” he protested, whirling around to see a flash of blondish hair turning the corner. “Come back!” He didn’t even know what was in the safe, or how she’d even gotten into it, but there was no doubt that whatever she had stolen, it was priceless. The Blakes were the second-wealthiest family in the city, and anything they had to lock away must have been worth millions. “You!” Bruce rounded the corner and started running, trying to close the distance. The girl had the same idea and took off, flying over the carpeting without making a sound. Bruce swore under his breath and ran faster, ripping off the stupid tie that suddenly felt like it was strangling him. Why would she rob the Blakes now? It was the middle of the day, and there were paparazzi everywhere. She would be seen for sure.

Bruce willed her to turn, even for a moment. He wanted to see her face, but she never gave him the opportunity, rounding corners too fast for him to see anything but the back of her head and the backpack filled with whatever she’d stolen. It didn’t look like very much.

“Heads up!” Bruce was given a second’s notice before an ancient vase was hurled through the air, aimed for his face. He skidded to a stop, catching it just before it shattered and possibly broke his nose. “Bye now.” Bruce let out a warning cry as the girl threw open a window and hopped through it. They were three stories up. There was no way she could land a fall like that, not without shattering her legs.

"Stop!” Bruce shouted once more, uselessly, sticking his head through the window just in time to see the girl shinny down a drainage pipe and jump to the ground like it was nothing. Bruce only caught a glimpse of a smile and the tangled mess of dirty blonde hair before she was off and running again, slipping through the fence with ease.

He’d been wrong before, Bruce thought as he pulled his head inside and slammed the window shut. Charity auctions, this one at least, were far from boring.

 

* * *

 

Selina shouldn’t have gotten involved. She was already inside when she found the guy on his knees, looking like the world was about to end. She should’ve just kept going – he was trapped inside his own head, it was obvious. He wasn’t going to cause her any problems.

But she stopped. Selina Kyle, the queen of keeping her nose out of other people’s business, stopped. He was her age, and clearly a blueblood, gauging from the way he was dressed. Why was he even up here? With all of the press and attention focused on the auction downstairs, Selina had banked on the third floor being empty. Just her luck that it wasn’t.

“Hey,” she said, kneeling beside him. His eyes were huge, his pupils blown wide. His breath was coming in short gasps and his hands were shaking. “You need to snap out of it. You’re having a panic attack.” She’d seen the symptoms often enough. The boy didn’t respond, but the boy’s breathing evened slightly. He could hear her. “Hey!” she said, more intently, pressing her hands to the sides of his face. “Wake up.” Selina watched as the boy’s pupils shrank and his breathing returned to normal, and finally realized who it was she was treating. It was amazing that she hadn’t realized sooner. Bruce Wayne. The goddamn prince of Gotham, of course it had to be him.

Confident that he would be okay and hating herself for stopping to help, Selina stood and made her way down the hall, keeping close to the walls in case there were any more catatonic billionaires lying in wait. She should have stuck to her plan, Selina berated herself. This was an easy job, one of the easiest she’d done in a long time. The Blake’s security was focused on keeping trespassers from stealing anything from downstairs and they’d left the rest of the mansion open and vulnerable. She’d had to memorize the guards’ patrol patterns, of course, but that was no problem. Finding a spot to scale the walls with no camera access was tougher, but still manageable. And now that she was in, it should’ve been cake. It would’ve been too, if she had just kept to the script.

Bruce Wayne was not in the script.

"Stupid,” she chided, finding the door she was looking for and quickly picking the lock. Now she had to worry about a traumatized blueblood catching up to her on top of everything else. “Stupid stupid stupid.” Selina found the safe easily, unoriginally hidden behind a picture frame, taking pains to unlock it quietly and efficiently. Her timetables had moved up and she needed to go. Now.

“What are you doing?” Selina had pushed the last of it into her backpack when the voice came from the doorway. She bit down a curse and softly stepped back into the shadows so he couldn’t see her.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said angrily, unable to keep the accusatory bite out of her voice. But whether she was blaming him for the episode that had given her pause, or herself for pausing at all, Selina had no idea. She inhaled sharply through her nose and ran, nearly knocking the billionaire over in her haste to get out the door. She didn’t stop to see if he’d fallen, too intent on her escape route.

Selina followed the map she’d memorized, twisting around corners and sprinting through the unnecessarily-long halls. But despite her lead, Wayne was gaining. And yelling, which would most certainly alert security. Selina had to get out.

“Heads up!” she warned, snatching a vase off of a random pedestal and hurling it at his head, careful not to show her face. Again, she didn’t wait to see if it met its mark but shot forward, urgency making her heart beat faster. Even so, she couldn’t help saying goodbye as she threw open a window and jumped to freedom. For one terrifying, exhilarating moment she was in free-fall, before her hand caught the drain pipe that she had scouted out a few days before. Selina let gravity do the rest, sliding down and jumping safely back down.

“Stop!” Selina heard the shout from the window and shook her head. She never should have stopped. It was a rookie move and she had been at this for too long to be making mistakes like that. Thieves couldn’t afford audiences.

Getting back to her side of the city was easy, but time consuming. She couldn’t go straight home in case Wayne had alerted the authorities, so Selina made her way across the city at random, sometimes on foot, sometimes catching public transportation. She hated heat runs. They were boring and, very often, unnecessary. But she had made enough stupid moves today; she wasn’t going to allow herself to be followed.

 “Yo Papi!” Selina called into the dimly-lit bar when she finally decided to head back.

“Hey, Sel,” the man at the bar said, waving at her with a dirty dishcloth. “I’ll tell the boss you’re here.” Papi vanished into the back only to reappear a second later, beckoning Selina into the room behind the bar.

“Ah, Selina,” the familiar voice came from the back of the room. Gerald’s voice. “You, my dear, are late. Was there trouble?” He gestured for her to sit.

“Just being careful,” Selina said guardedly, unslinging her backpack and sliding into a chair. “You’re always telling me to take fewer risks.”

“That’s because I can’t afford to lose you, darling girl.” Selina knew that Gerard liked her, but that didn’t count for much. He was exceptionally well-mannered, especially for a mobster, but Selina had seen how quickly his polite façade could dissolve into violence. “Everything went smoothly I assume?”

“Always does,” Selina lied, pinning a smile to her face. She wanted to get paid and go home. It had been a long day. “Here’s everything you ordered.” Selina unzipped her bag and pulled out a single flash drive, pushing it across the table.

“Selina you are a miracle worker.” Gerald said, clapping his hands together with delight. “I’ve had people trying to work this job for weeks.”

“Then you know to come to me first next time.”

“You’re the best, but you are expensive, love.” Gerald said, shaking his head. “And worth every penny. Here,” he said, passing her an envelope. Selina swept it into her bag. “Everything’s been done to your exact specifications, as per usual.” Selina nodded and stood, taking that as her cue to leave. “It’s been a pleasure.”

“Likewise,” Selina said. “Next time you want something done right, you know where to find me.”

 “Oh such cloak and dagger,” Gerard said. “I do adore that.” Selina fought the urge to roll her eyes. Sometimes he was a little much for her.

“Don’t you want to know what was on the drive?” Papi asked, walking her out.       “Nope,” Selina said shortly, striding out the door. She’d been paid to get a flash-drive and that’s what she got. She’d also been seen, which was something that had never happened before and she hoped never would again.

“Hey Lina.” A small boy sidled up beside her, keeping pace as she made her way back to her apartment. “You got anything for me today?”

“Tommy, you should not be out this late,” Selina scolded lightly. “If they find you missing again there’s going to be hell to pay.”

“I’ll be back before breakfast,” Tommy replied, rolling his eyes. Selina smiled despite herself. Tommy was one of the dozens of kids left orphaned by gang violence, all living in St. Bart’s Orphanage and at eleven he already had a knack for finding trouble. “Come on, I know you scored today. Why else would you be coming out of Gerard’s bar?”

“You and I need to have a talk about boundaries,” she said lightly. “Fine,” Selina relented. “Here.” She fished a crumpled twenty out of her bag and handed it to him. Tommy snatched it with greedy fingers. “And if I hear about you spending that on anything but candy and junk food, we’re going to have problems, you hear me?”

“Gotcha,” Tommy said, giving her a sharp salute before running down the street, whooping and hollering. Selina knew that she shouldn’t be giving him handouts. There wasn’t enough to go around as it was, and no one else was going to give him – or any of the St Bart’s kids – freebies. They should get used to it now. Gotham wasn’t a forgiving city, and if you couldn’t survive on your own, there wasn’t much anyone could do for you. And besides, the kids were starting to rely on her, Tommy especially. Selina tried to help when she could, but she worried that they wouldn’t be able to hold their own without her. There was no such thing as job permanence in Selina’s line of work, and in this city, people disappeared every day.

Selina shook her head, trying to banish those thoughts as she let herself into her apartment. She was fine. Everything was fine. She was just shaken because of what had happened at the Blakes. Making sure to lock the door behind her, Selina dropped her bag onto the table and flopped onto the couch, turning on the television. She was exhausted. Letting her eyes close, Selina let the newscaster’s soft voices wash over her.

Despite living in a real apartment for over a year, Selina still couldn’t sleep in silence. It made her twitchy and paranoid, an old habit she’d picked up from a childhood of sleeping under roadways and in noisy homeless camps. Silence was deadly, Selina had learned the hard way. When everything was quiet, it meant something terrible had happened.

“And in breaking news, the Blake family has reported a home invasion and robbery today in their family manor on White Hill. There are no leads yet as to what was stolen, or the identity of the thief, but we do know that the Blakes have employed their personal security and a team of private detectives to recover what was taken.” Selina groaned, pulling a pillow over her eyes. Fantastic. Now she had a team of private detectives on her ass, and because of her stupid bleeding heart they could have her description. Hopefully her neighbors would know enough to keep their mouths shut if the cops came snooping around, looking for an nineteen-year-old thief who’d been suckered into saving a billionaire from a panic attack. Selina swore into the pillow. All she could do now was wait, and hope to God that Bruce Wayne didn’t tell anyone that he’d seen her.


	2. Missing

Bruce hadn’t told anyone that he’d seen her. He went back to the auction when he could process what had happened; smiled and made polite conversation, even bid on an item, until Alfred came to pick him up. It was like he was on autopilot, simply going through the motions while his mind whirled, trying to process.

It didn’t take long for the Blakes to notice that something had been taken – in her haste, the girl hadn’t returned the room to its pristine state. If she had, Bruce was willing to bet that her crime would have been discovered much later. But despite her rush to get away, the girl hadn’t left anything behind. There were no leads, and he knew that he should come forward and tell the police what he knew. The GCPD was working overtime to find the culprit, but their search was too wide. Bruce knew that he could further their investigation – knowing that the thief was a girl no older than her early twenties would narrow the parameters considerably.

And yet he hadn’t said anything to anyone. Not even Alfred. Instead he’d cloistered himself in his father’s old study – his study now – and pored over each and every detail, refusing to forget anything that had transpired. He’d even had police reports delivered detailing robberies from the past year, looking for connections. The rational part of his mind reminded that withholding what he knew was obstruction of justice, or could even have him branded as an accessory. And the police would be by any day now to interview potential witnesses from the auction. Bruce still had no idea what he would tell them. One thing that he was sure of was that he wanted to find her.

“You look busy,” Alfred said a few days after the auction, coming in with a covered tray of food. Bruce had forgotten to eat. Again. “Trying to do the police’s job for them?”

“I was there,” Bruce said, trying to keep his expression as blasé as possible . “It’s interesting. And besides, it’s not like I have anything else to do.”

“So you forgot.” Bruce looked up curiously. Forgotten what? “You have to go to the sponsor’s event at St. Bart’s, downtown.” Bruce groaned and rolled his eyes. He had forgotten. “Come now, Master Bruce, your parents funded that orphanage, and you only have to go once a year.”

“Two events in one week, Alfred?” Bruce complained, knowing full well how petulant and childish he sounded. He didn’t have time for public appearances; he wanted to keep working on the case.

“One week of keeping up appearances and then you can be an eighteen-year-old recluse again. Now eat something and get changed.” Bruce rolled his eyes, but closed the file without further protest. Besides, he’d always liked visiting the orphanage. It was a tribute to his parents, and proof that their philanthropy lived on still.

St. Bart’s had been a pet project of his parents’, and a smashing success when the whole city thought it was insane for the richest couple in the city to invest in orphaned by gang violence. But they’d ignored the critics and poured millions of dollars into a state of the art facility that would cater to the children’s every need. Bruce had actually thought that he’d be send there when his parents had been killed, before he knew that Alfred had been instated as his legal guardian.

“This neighborhood continues to be depressing,” Bruce commented as the car drove through the Narrows. Bruce knew that his parents had built here because of the gang activity, but he couldn’t help but think that it put the children in danger to remain in the area where their parents had been killed. Bruce hadn’t returned to the theater district since it all had happened, not even five years later.

“Well not everyone can live on White Hill,” Alfred said coolly and Bruce felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Sorry.” He didn’t speak again until they arrive at St. Bart’s, where a smiling woman was waiting for them.

“Mr. Wayne,” the woman said cheerfully, her cheeks pinched so tight that it was a wonder her skin didn’t crack. “My name is Mary Johnson, I’ll be showing you around today.”

“Pleasure,” Bruce said, shaking her hand. Mary turned and ushered them into the orphanage, quickly going on about how much of an impact his parents made, how their loss affected the city, everything Bruce had heard a thousand times before. He tuned out after about a minute, preferring to see how the orphanage had changed in the last year. For one thing, no one was around. Every other time he’d ever been there it had been abuzz with activity; children running to and fro, embarrassing the administrators, and making one hell of a racket. But now it was quiet ad still.

“Where is everyone?” Bruce asked, interrupting. “Has something happened?”

“No,” Ms. Johnson said quickly, too quickly. “Nothing at all.”

“Here’s the thing about Bruce Wayne,” a familiar voice said, walking up behind them. “He really doesn’t like being out of the loop.”

“Detective Gordon,” Bruce said, recognizing the voice immediately.

“Jim, please,” the detective said, shaking Bruce’s hand. “Nice to see you Bruce.”

“Likewise.” Bruce hadn’t seen Jim Gordon much since he’d be assigned his parents’ case, but the detective had practically lived at Wayne Manor during the investigation. He’d always been kind to Bruce, keeping him updated on the case and any new evidence that came up, even offered him help on Bruce’s pet investigative projects. Bruce wouldn’t admit that his little detective hobby was inspired by Gordon’s work.

“And to answer your question, one of the boys has gone missing. He was last seen on Monday, and hasn’t been heard from since.” The same day as the burglary at the Blakes, Bruce thought idly. “Ms. Johnson,” the detective said, turning to the administrator. “I found someone who I think might be able to help. This is Selina – ” Jim turned as if to introduce someone, but there was no one there. “God dammit,” he swore.

“Lost someone?” Bruce couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah, local girl. She knows the kids. I thought she could help.”

“Local?” Ms. Johnson repeated with some distaste. Jim fixed her with a cool stare and Bruce suddenly could imagine him sitting across the table from a suspect, glaring them down.

“Yes, she lives in the neighborhood.”

“Well I’m sure she’s already looking around,” Bruce jumped in, trying to relieve the tension. “And I’d like to help, in any way that I can.” He wasn’t exactly qualified, but Bruce knew several of the children housed here; maybe they’d be more likely to talk to him than the police.

“I would appreciate the help,” Jim said. He grinned. “Welcome to the force, Detective Wayne.”

 

* * *

 

“Shit,” Selina swore, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. She had to be cursed, or paying for the crimes of a past life. There was no way that her luck could be this bad. What were the odds that she would see Bruce Wayne twice in a week?

It seemed like she was going to get away with it – with everything. Wayne hadn’t seen her face and had no way of tracking her down, and it seemed like he was going to keep his mouth shut. Selina was beginning to relax.

Then the cop showed up. Not at her place, thank God, but too close for comfort.

“Selina Kyle?” a voice called as she walked into her favorite coffee shop. Selina turned, pulling the faux-fur hood of her coat up, evaluating the stranger. He was tall, taller than her, with short-cropped hair and intense eyes on a serious face.

“Who’s asking?” she asked, trying to keep her voice polite. Gerard had given her messages via currier before and she didn’t want work getting back to him that she was ungrateful for the work.

“Detective Jim Gordon,” the man said and Selina felt her stomach swoop. She knew that name, and now that she looked closer, she recognized his face. He was older for sure, but it was him. “Don’t run,” he said quickly, no doubt seeing Selina about to bolt. “I’m not here to arrest you.”

“What do you want?” Selina demanded through her teeth. “How do you know who I am?” And why wasn’t he here to arrest her? There was no innocent reason for a GCPD cop to come looking for her. She’d had run-ins with the police before and they were sadistic bastards, the lot of them, willing to beat a confession out of anyone they could get their hands on in order to close a case quickly. Selina had come too close to being their scapegoat more than once. She wasn’t getting put on the rack again.

“I’m investigating the disappearance of Tommy Vasquez, and I was given your name by some of the kids I interviewed earlier.” _We need to have a talk about ratting to cops_ , Selina thought before the rest of what he’d said hit her. Tommy. Tommy was gone. “He was last seen on Monday of this week.” Selina’s heart dropped even lower. The day of the heist. She’d seen Tommy that night, she’d given him some cash for junk food. “Look, kids go missing all the time, I know that. But I want to find this kid and you’re the only lead I have. Please.” Selina blinked, reevaluating. If she didn’t know better, she would swear that he was sincere. But sincere and the GCPD were not two things that went hand-in-hand.

"Fine,” Selina hissed under her breath, her eyes darting left and right. “Go get me a coffee, milk and sugar. I’ll meet you there.”

“Wha – ”

“I want to find Tommy,” Selina said quickly. “But I’d also like not to die, and talking with cops is the fastest way to get a bullet in the head.” Gordon’s eyes tightened, like the idea of casual murder upset him. Selina wasn’t as bothered. This was Gotham, and people died every day. She’d grown up with that hanging over her head, and as crazy as it sounded, it was something you got used to. “Go. Milk and sugar. Don’t tell anyone you’re a cop.” Selina brushed by him, slipping her hand into his pocket and lifting his badge, just in case. There were eyes everywhere and if he was searched, she’d rather he not have it on him. It was safer for everyone that way.

It didn’t take Selina long to get the orphanage, even without a ride. Most people underestimated how quickly you could get from one place to another if you went over the rooftops.

“Took you long enough,” Selina said when Gordon finally caught up to her.

“Well I took some time looking for my badge,” he said, glaring at her. Selina shrugged and tossed it back to him.

“If someone saw you flashing your badge all over the place, we’d both die, and I like living. Coffee,” she said, stretching out her hand. He handed over the to-go cup reluctantly, obviously regretting his decision to seek her out for help. “Please and thank you.”

“Why do you care? About this, about Tommy?” Selina asked as they walked through the wrought-iron gate. “You’re a cop and he’s a street kid. What am I missing?”

“I was on his parents case,” Gordon said after a moment’s pause. “I was the one who brought him here. I…”

“Feel responsible.” Selina finished when he trailed off. “Gotcha.”

“Looks like we’ve got company,” Gordon said, opening the door.

“Where is everyone? Has something happened?” a familiar voice was saying as they walked in. Selina froze as she recognized Bruce Wayne standing with a woman in a suit, no doubt one of the administrators of the orphanage. _Shit_ , she swore, ducking her head and flying up the staircase. She crouched at the top, listening to Gordon talk to the prince of Gotham like they were old pals until he finally noticed that she was gone. Of course they were friends, and of course they would be together. The kid and only witness to her heist at the Blakes, and the cop would arrest her for it. Perfect.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Gordon said, finding her at the stair landing.

“Looking for kids to interview while you were chatting with a billionaire. And next time don’t give out my name,” Selina said coldly. “You and I are not friends, or partners, or anything, and I don’t want anyone knowing I’m here. Or anyone _else_.”

“Fine. Just don’t disappear on me again, okay?”

“Yeah I’m not going to promise that,” Selina said. “Keep me away from Wayne. I don’t like bluebloods,” she said when he gave her a look. “Call it a chip on my shoulder.” Call it a chance that Wayne would recognize her and call her out in front of a god damn cop.

“I’ll keep you separate, just go talk to kids,” Gordon said, rolling his eyes. He thought she was petty, a girl from the Narrows who hated billionaire Bruce Wayne because she was jealous. Selina didn’t mind; she preferred petty to guilty. Besides, she was here to find Tommy. Avoiding Wayne was just making things interesting.

It just didn’t make sense. Why would Tommy run? There wasn’t a better place for abandoned kids in Gotham, let alone the Narrows. He had everything he needed, food, clothing, a roof over his head. Why would anyone leave?

_You did_ , a small voice reminded her. _This was the only place that was safe for you and you left_. Selina shook her head, banishing the thought to the back of her mind.

“Knock, knock,” she said, tapping on a door she knew. “How’s my girl?”

“Lina!” A little girl with dark hair sprang out of bed and tackled her midsection in a hug. “Lina you’re back, I missed you!”

 “I missed you too,” Selina said, lifting the girl onto her hip. “God you’ve gotten big, Jeannie. You’re going to be picking me up soon.” Jeannie smiled and buried her face in Selina’s neck. “Jeannie, I need to ask you something. Do you know where Tommy went?” Selina loved the little girl, but she also knew that Jeannie was the worst sneak to come out of the Narrows in years. She saw everything.

“I saw him go down the street,” Jeannie said, eager to please. “He didn’t come back after that.”

“Which street?” Selina asked. “It’s important, Jeannie, which street?”

“I can show you,” Jeannie said, wriggling out of Selina’s arms and running to the window. With practiced ease the little girl threw the window open and scrambled out, climbing easily onto the roof. Selina followed her without question. The kids had seen her come in and out through the windows so many times it was natural that they would follow suit. But it still made her nervous.

“He went down there,” Jeannie said, pointing down a side-street. “He said he would bring me back a Kit-Kat but he never came back. Where’d he go?”“He’ll be home soon.” Selina said, not meeting her eyes and hoping the lie would stick anyway. “I’m gong to bring him back.”

"Hey!” someone shouted from the ground below. “Jesus Christ Jeannie, get back inside!” Jeannie snickered and slid down the sloped roof, making Selina’s heart jump.

“That’s Joseph,” Jeannie said happily, swinging on the window and into her room. Selina followed suit, leaping through the window and landing on her feet. “He’s funny.” Jeannie leaned forward as if she was sharing a secret. “He thinks I’m going to fall. I’m not going to fall.” She stiffened suddenly, scuttling sideways so that she was hidden behind Selina. Selina looked up to see what had spooked her and froze.

“Hi, sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was in here.” Bruce Wayne said, inclining his head politely. Selina’s mind raced, trying to find an exit. She couldn’t leave Jeannie without an explanation and Wayne didn’t know her face, but he’d heard her voice. “I’m – ”

“Bruce Wayne,” Selina cut him off, making her voice high and breathy. “I know who you are.” She turned from him abruptly and knelt by Jeannie. “Don’t tell him who I am,” she whispered in the little girl’s ear, trusting her not to ask any questions. “Tommy will be back soon, okay?” Jeannie nodded solemnly and Selina stood again. “Nice to meet you,” she said, brushing past Wayne and escaping into the hallway.

“Wait!” Wayne said, trailing behind her, and Selina couldn’t help but think back on the last time he’d chased her down a hallway. “You know my name, what’s yours?”

“The whole world knows your name,” Selina snapped, the effect a little less impressive in her affected, airy voice. “And no one even knows that Tommy is missing.”

“So you know the kid who’s gone?” Wayne pushed, not taking the hint. “Do you know all of them? Did you live here or something?” Selina stopped dead in her tracks and Wayne froze along with her, obviously realizing what he’d said. Kids who ended up at St. Bart’s had parents murdered by the mob. “I’m sor – ”

“My parents are dead,” Selina said coldly, meeting his eyes for the first time. “Looks like we have that in common.” It was cruel and a low blow, but it gave her the opportunity to get away. She’d gotten what she needed anyway. There was a bodega down the street where Tommy had been last seen, and Selina didn’t want to spend any more time in the company of cops and billionaires. As soon as she was sure that Wayne wasn’t following her, she slipped out a window onto the fire escape and climbed down to the street.

Damn Jim Gordon and damn Bruce Wayne. It took a Narrows kid to find one, and they were proving worse than useless. She didn’t need either of them. Selina would find Tommy on her own.


	3. Mistakes

Police work was easy. All you had to do was find someone who might know something and threaten them until they gave you what you wanted. No wonder the GCPD was full of such billyclub-happy morons.

In her case, all she had to do was promise the man at the counter that if he didn’t give her a copy of the security tape from Monday night, she would have Gerard’s people burn his store down. It was an empty threat, but he didn’t know that.

Jeannie was right, though. Tommy had come to the bodega on Monday night with the twenty that Selina had given him. He’d bought a Kit-Kat and some other candy and then gone back out onto the street. That’s when it got dicey. The bodega’s camera didn’t see very far out into the street, but she could see the corner of a license plate. And suddenly the likelihood that Tommy had just wandered off dropped dramatically, because Selina knew the license number.

“Gerard!” Selina shouted, barging into the bar without preamble.

“Selina, what the hell?” Papi demanded, moving to block her. “Selina you can’t go back there!”

“I need to talk to him, it’s important,” Selina insisted, sidestepping past him and bursting into the back room. “Gerard I need to…talk to you.” Selina stopped dead, her heart leaping into her throat and threatening to choke her. Gerard was in the back room all right, but he wasn’t alone. Selina’s mind spun into overdrive, analyzing the unexpected face in front of her, the briefcase on the table, and the files spread between them. It took her less than a second to realize who was across the table. A short, smartly-dressed man with slicked black hair and the iconic hooked nose. He was sitting, but Selina could guess that when he walked his gait would be halting and short.

“Selina,” Gerard said, cool and collected as ever, but there was a layer of steel under his words. “This is unexpected.”

“And you seem really, really busy so I will just come back another time,” Selina said, backtracking furiously. She spun on her heel, straight into two very large men blocking the doorway. Keeping her in. Selina’s already whirring mind added new variables to the equation. She was small and fast, but the two men were so big that there was no way she could get past them. She was trapped.

“Boys, please take Selina outside until I’m done with Mr. Cobblepot.” Cobblepot. Oswald Cobblepot, also known as the Penguin, and a well-known Maroni man.

This was Falcone territory, which made Gerard, Selina, and every mobster in the Narrows Falcone’s people. The two families had been at war for as long as Selina could remember; there was no reason for Penguin to be in Gerard’s bar. In fact, it was very dangerous for him to be here at all, why would be here?

A deal. They were making a deal, that explained the paper and Papi trying to keep her out of the back – he never did that, Papi loved her and always let her in, why wouldn’t he? Selina was the best.

Meaty hands clamped onto her shoulders, snapping Selina out of her pin-wheeling thoughts, leaving just one left: Gerard was going to kill her. She was his favorite, but no one was valuable enough to be kept alive if he was making a deal with the opposing team. Gerard liked her, but he wouldn’t take the risk that she’d rat him out. _I’m going to die_ , Selina thought with a rush of clarity and fear. _They’re going to shoot me_.

“Wait,” a high, wheedling voice said, and the men wheeling her out of the room stopped. “Gerard, I’m sorry, but I’m curious. Let her go.” Selina was released and she staggered away from them, pushing herself into a corner of the room. There were too many eyes watching her and not enough options. “Selina, is it?”

“Answer the man,” Gerard said lightly, his eyes promising murder.

“Yes,” she said.

“My name’s Oswald,” the Penguin said, smiling at her. “But you already knew that. You knew the second you walked in, I could tell.”

“Everyone knows who you are,” Selina said softly. Scary, sociopathic, favored umbrellas. Selina had done her homework two years ago, when she’d stolen from him personally. Not on Gerard’s orders, but he knew about it. Selina was just praying that he didn’t bring it up.

“And you looked very concerned when you walked in here, Selina. Why?”

“A kid went missing,” Selina said, trying to remember how to talk and breathe at the same time. “One of my kids. I know the car. I needed Gerard’s help.”

“One of your kids?” Oswald pushed, pressing the tips of his fingers together and leaning in.

“She’s taken the St. Bart’s kids under her protection,” Gerard explained like Selina wasn’t there. “One of the conditions that she come in as one of my reapers.”

“I don’t like that term,” Selina said without thinking. “I’m a thief, not some harbinger of death. I steal things, and I’m good at it. Those kids are part of my price.”

“A reaper with a soft spot for kids,” the Penguin said, quirking an eyebrow.

“The crime war took everything from them,” Selina said pointedly, forgetting her fear for a moment. The adrenaline was scraping her nerves raw and she’d never been good at keeping her mouth shut. “And they’re just kids.”

“So are you.”

Despite he heart hammering like it wanted to break her ribs, Selina fixed Oswald with a scathing look. “You’re Maroni, so I’ll fill you in: Us Narrows kids don’t stay kids for long.” Selina expected to be marched out of the room, or shot on the spot. As soon as the words left her lips, Selina prepared to die in any number of ways.

She didn’t expect him to laugh.

“Selina the reaper, defender of the children,” the Penguin said, leaning back and giving her an appraising look. “I like you.” He turned to Gerard, who wasn’t blinking, a bad sign. “Gerard, I know this is highly irregular, especially considering how sensitive the situation is, but keep this one alive. I think she’s going to come in handy.” He waved his hands and the two men moved aside, opening up the doorway again. “Oh, and Selina, I’m sure Gerard will be more than happy to help you find your orphan. Won’t you?”

“Of course,” Gerard said silkily. “Selina, a moment?” He was standing before Selina could flee out the door. He walked with her in silence until they were out of the bar. “Selina, Selina, Selina,” he said softly, pulling a gun out of his blazer and letting it hang loosely by his side. “My darling, wonderful, nosy, stupid Selina.”

“Gerard,” Selina started, her eyes never leaving the gun.

“Do not interrupt me,” Gerard cut her off, his voice never losing its pleasant tone. “I love you like a daughter, you know I do, but you have just made some very big problems for me.”

“I won’t say anything,” Selina promised, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Gerard had never scared her, not before this moment. He’d never looked at her like that, his head cocked, eyes narrowed and crazed, all the while his voice was polite and soft as ever.

“No, you won’t,” Gerard agreed, advancing on her. “Because if any word of this gets out, even a whisper, then I’m coming for you, dear. And I won’t kill you, not at first. I’ll do so much worse than that.” Selina backed away from him until she was pushed against the brick wall of the bar. The gun that had been hanging at his side was brought up and pressed against Selina’s temple. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, her whole universe was Gerard and the gun. “I’ll burn down that precious orphanage of yours with all of the kids inside, and then when they’re all dead, I’ll put a bullet in you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Selina breathed, not daring to move.

“Good.” Something struck her hard and pain flared white hot at the base of her skull. Selina went to her knees but miraculously didn’t pass out. “Now get going, love, before I change my mind.” Selina stumbled to her feet and cut a staggering, uneven path back to her apartment. She flew through the door and bolted it behind her with shaking fingers.

She was alive. But somehow, with blood dripping down her neck and her head pounding from the butt of Gerard’s gun, it didn’t seem like very much. The Penguin had spared her, but Selina had no idea how long that protection would last. She’d be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life, waiting for the day that they decided that she was too dangerous to have around. And they would, eventually, realize that having a witness put them in too much danger. She was safe for now, but not forever. Now, she had a deadline, an expiration date. Selina could practically feel it ticking down the heartbeats she had left.

All at once, Selina’s legs gave out and she slid down the wall in a heap. She was so _stupid_. She’d gone into the bar looking for help and had left with a gun to her head. Worst of all, she’d just let it happen. She was fast and tough - she’d had to be to survive on her own – but Selina had just let Gerard back her into a corner. She could’ve taken the gun, she could’ve told him that she wouldn’t be threatened.

_Then you’d be dead for sure_. Penguin or no Penguin, if she’d fought back, Gerard would have put a bullet in her and said that she had attacked him. Selina buried her head in her arms, choking back a sob. She couldn’t remember being that scared, ever. What they were doing, the deal between two lieutenants of opposing crime families…it was suicide. There were _rules_ , rules you didn’t break if you wanted to keep breathing. Selina had lived under Falcone for as long as she could remember, and the war had been going on for half of her life. But if you stayed well under the radar, you stayed alive. Selina had made herself useful to Gerard in return for protection, but all of that had just gone to straight to shit.

Maybe now she had to be her own protection.

 

* * *

 

A few days went by without incident. Selina hadn’t left her apartment much, only for groceries, and an easy job that had taken barely half an hour. Sudden movements didn’t send her running anymore, and shadows dancing across the floor didn’t make her grab for her knife – the knife that never left her person, not anymore. Then came the press conference. A tall boy with dark hair and an aristocratic face stood at a podium, speaking to a small army of reporters. Selina rolled her eyes. Bruce Wayne was on TV. It seemed that he was everywhere lately.

“I’m calling this press conference today to raise awareness. My parents built St. Bart’s orphanage for children whose parents had been taken from them by gang violence. Since it opened, over one hundred children have been housed there.”

“Everyone knows that, genius,” Selina grumbled at the TV, starting to pick up the pillows she’d displaced in her sleep.

 “But I’m not here to talk about the crime families, I’ll leave that to the police.” Wayne flashed a charming smile and the press all laughed with him. “What I am here to talk about is a boy named Tommy Vasquez.” At the name Selina stopped short. Oh no. “He’s eleven, and disappeared from St. Bart’s on Monday night.”

“Stop,” Selina whispered, staring at the screen. “Stop talking.”

“He’s just a kid,” Wayne continued. “A kid that lost everything to the violence in this city. It’s the least we can do to find him and bring him home. I will be personally offering a reward for his safekeeping, and his photo and the number to call if he’s seen will be distributed.” Wayne cleared his throat, hesitating before looking straight into the camera. “Someone told me recently that not everyone lives on White Hill. I was born into wealth and its time that I did something with it, just like my parents. Which is why, in addition to the reward, I will be throwing a charity gala at Wayne Mansion to raise funds for another orphanage like St. Bart’s in the city. Thank you.” Wayne stepped off of the podium and was ushered away by a gray-haired man in a trench coat, leaving Selina staring blankly as the picture cut to a photo of Tommy.

“You idiot,” Selina breathed, the severity of what he’d done rushing at her in full force. “You idiot!” She surged forward, smashing her fist through the screen. If Gerard saw this…. _when_ Gerard saw this, he’d know that Selina and Wayne had both been at St. Bart’s, he’d think that she told him something. And he’d thrown a fucking press conference to tell the whole world that he, the crown prince of Gotham, was looking for one of Selina’s kids. “You killed me.”

It only took them an hour to come for her. “Selina!” It wasn’t a voice she knew, but that didn’t matter. “Come out or we’ll break down the door!”

“Jesus, don’t be so dramatic.” Selina said as she opened the door, the picture of nonchalance despite the blood dripping from her knuckles. “What do you want?”

“You are in big trouble.” She didn’t know him. He wasn’t one of Gerard’s, as far as she knew, but that didn’t mean much. Finding hired muscle was easy these days. And he wasn’t alone. There were four of them, all crowded on her doorstep.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about getting it tattooed on my forehead,” Selina shot back. This was easy, this was her territory. Mouthing off to goons who were bigger and stronger than her. Goons didn’t scare her like Gerard and Oswald Cobblepot. They didn’t have any real power, they had big fists they barely knew how to use. Fists didn’t scare her.

“You are coming with us.”

“No.” Selina said. “Nice try though.” The guy cracked his knuckles and advanced towards her. Selina danced away from him, ducking away from his fist when he swung at her. He was slow, laughably slow, and it didn’t take much to avoid him. Falling to one knee, Selina pulled out the blade she’d hidden in her sleeve and jammed it into the man’s leg. He howled as blood gushed from the wound, hitting the ground hard. “God dammit, you’re messing up my floors,” Selina sighed, twirling the knife in her fingers. She was good with knives, always had been. The easiest way to get into bags was by slashing them.

“You…bitch!” the man spat at her. Selina rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t hit your femoral, you’re not going to bleed out.” Selina said before turning her attention to the rest of the goons, all of who were staring at her. “Who’s next?”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Selina froze, all bravado vanishing as Oswald Cobblepot appeared. The remaining men jumped out of the way to let him pass. It seemed Selina wasn’t the only one afraid of him. “May I come in?”

“Looks like you’re already in,” Selina said, steeling her nerves and willing her voice to stay steady. She was strong. She wouldn’t let herself be scared. “Why stand on ceremony?”

Oswald smiled, waddling through the doorway. He must have really mangled his leg once upon a time. He slowly made his way to where his man was on the ground, still clutching his leg and his smiled broadened. “I knew I liked you, Selina, right from the start. And this is lovely work. You didn’t mention that you were a blade girl.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“But this business with Bruce Wayne…” Oswald said like she hadn’t spoken. “You should’ve told us.”

“And Gerard would’ve shot me.”

“He wants to shoot you now.” Selina felt her heart pick up. Then why hadn’t he done it yet? “But I still think you could be of use to us, especially in light of your delightful affinity for pointy objects. I also think you’re too smart to talk to someone like Wayne. Thing is, we don’t know if we can trust you.” Well if that wasn’t a two-way street, Selina didn’t know what was. “So we, Gerard and I, are going to offer you a deal. Bruce Wayne needs to know that he can’t speak out against the crime families. He may be Gotham’s golden boy, but business is business.”

“I’m not an assassin,” Selina said. “If you want to kill him, send someone else.” She was toeing a very dangerous line, but Oswald only smiled wider.

“Oh no no no, Selina, that’s not what I want at all. Killing him would start a riot. Everyone loves the Waynes, and now that young Bruce has started this campaign to find poor orphan Tommy, there would be outcry.” The Penguin shook his head. “No, killing him would be too messy.”

“Then what?” Selina pushed when he paused, presumably waiting for her to ask.

“Well, people do get so attached to their personal belongings, don’t they? Especially when they’re all they have left of their dearly departed mother and father.” Selina’s heart sank further. “Let’s remind young Bruce how it feels to lose his parents, hm? Maybe when he has nothing left of them, he will learn his place in this city.”

“Fine.” Selina said, knowing full well that she had no choice. The Penguin nodded, looking pleased, and stood, making for the door.

“And Selina?” he said, pausing at the exit. “If you fail, I will let Gerard have you.” He chuckled like it was some kind of joke. “He’s fond of knives, like you. And that man, for all of his pretense of civility, is an artist when it comes to taking people apart.”


	4. The Gala

There wasn’t a lot of time to prepare. Wayne’s gala was only a few days away, and Selina needed to memorize every inch of the floor plan. She had to know every way in and out of the mansion. She had to know where the press would be, and more importantly, where they wouldn’t.

She had to find a dress. Sneaking in wasn’t an option this time. Wayne’s security was much tighter than Blake’s had been, and Selina never did two jobs the same way. Even using a party as her in was dangerous. Especially since it was Wayne’s party, and now he had a face to match her voice. For the hundredth time since the Penguin had invaded her apartment, Selina wondered if they were setting her up to fail. It sure as hell felt like it.

Most importantly, she needed an invitation. Without that, all of her planning went to waste. Thankfully, she had a guy.

“No.”

“Manny, come on,” Selina said, sticking her foot in the door before he could close it on her. The tall, dark-haired man at the door only scowled.

"Alleycat, I love you, but your kind of crazy isn’t something I need in my life right now.”

“My kind of crazy is exactly what you need in your life right now, especially when you owe my kind of crazy a favor.” Selina said smoothly, ignoring the childhood nickname that she’d spent years trying to grow out of.

“Manny who’s at the door – Selina!” Another man came to the door, throwing his arm around Manny’s shoulders.

“Speaking of said favor,” Selina said, grinning. “Hey Ollie. I need your help, both of yours.”

“Come in, come in,” Oliver said, ushering her inside. “God, Manny, where are your manners? What can we do for you, Sel?”

“The Wayne gala,” Selina said once they’d shut the door behind her. “I need an invitation, both electronic and print. Can you do it?”

“You’re insane,” Manny said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was a hacker, one of the best Selina knew, and Oliver was something of a savant when it came to forgery.

“Very likely. Can you do it?”

“Of course we can,” Oliver said. “Between the two of us, it’s a wonder that we don’t attend every major party in the city. Besides, we owe you. Right, Manuel?” Oliver said sweetly, giving his boyfriend a significant look. Manny looked murderous, and Selina knew that she’d won. She’d known Manny for years, and was the once who had introduced him to Oliver. He’d been so angry at first, insisting that he wasn’t interested. Selina smiled at the memory. Manny’s sexual preference was the worst kept secret in the Narrows, not that anyone cared. With a crime war going on and the poverty line rising every year, people had their own problems. It had taken a lot of digging her heels in and a little time, but Manny had fallen hard for Oliver. Two years later they were still together, and that’s what they owed her. Selina had never pushed it and she had never planned to, but she was desperate.

“Fine,” Manny grumbled finally. “I’ll get you on the goddamn guest list.”

“And no one will ever know that your invitation didn’t come in the mail,” Oliver said happily. “Come on, babe, let’s get to work.”

"You two are lifesavers, thank you,” Selina said, kissing Oliver on the cheek. They didn’t know how literal she was being, either of them. “Ollie, I have one more favor to ask. I need a dress.”

“You are a stereotype,” Manny said, rolling his eyes. “You ask the gay guy for fashion advice?”

“I have something perfect,” Oliver said, cutting him off.

“I hate both of you,” Manny said, throwing his hands up. “ _Dios mio_.”

“Ignore him, he’s just cranky,” Oliver promised. “Come on, I’ll hook you up.”

Everything was falling into place. The dress that Oliver gave her was perfect, classy enough to fit in at a blueblood party, and just short enough that she could flirt her way out of a corner. Manny and Oliver had delivered on all counts, so getting in wasn’t going to be a problem. And most importantly, Selina had out which catering company was working the gala and stashed a duffel bag in one of their trucks. She was meant to be stealing Wayne’s last connections to his parents, and they wouldn’t be small enough to fit into her tasteful clutch.

She was ready. She was prepared for this job and she had a hundred and one contingency plans that covered every possible outcome. Including running into Bruce Wayne. The first time she was in all-black and a hoodie; at the orphanage, Selina had been wearing ratty jeans and an old jacket with fake fur trim and goggles that she never wore but somehow couldn’t get rid of perched on her head. Now, as she looked in the mirror, inspecting the outfit one final time, it occurred to her that she didn’t even recognize herself.

She’d actually showered, for one thing. Her dirty-blonde hair, usually a disheveled mess of curls, had been straightened and brushed until it hung to her shoulders in a shiny curtain. The dress fit perfectly, giving her curves she’d never had before, and she had stolen some shiny heels to match. Oliver had insisted on doing her makeup, and Selina’s whole face was covered in powder that had magically evened out her already-fair skin and somehow made her pores disappear. Her eyelids were bronze and shimmering, turning her eyes even brighter green, and there was some kind of shiny goop on her lips. Even if Wayne did see her – and she would do her best to avoid him – there was no way he’d associate her with the skinny street rat from the orphanage. The only details out of place were her still-healing knuckles, but Selina doubted that anyone would notice.

“Name?” the burly man at the door grunted at her, giving her a passing, cursory glance. Selina flashed him a winning smile.

“Catalina Black,” Selina said, trying not to choke on the irony. Black cat, really? Selina had to appreciate Manny’s sense of revenge. The guard nodded her in and ushered Selina inside, ducking her head to shield her face from the blinding flashes of the paparazzi’s cameras. Breaking into Wayne Mansion was all well and good, but getting caught on camera was unacceptable. Thankfully, none of the press were allowed inside, which made Selina’s life considerably easier. She didn’t need to be dodging cameras as well as baby bluebloods.

Selina let herself be swept along with the crowd through the main entryway, marveling with the other guests at the interior of the mansion. She’d seen many of the other manors on White Hill on TV, but never the Wayne’s. The richest couple in Gotham had been private when they were alive, and when they’d died, Bruce Wayne had practically become a shut-in. But damn, did they know how to decorate. Selina descended a curving spiral staircase into the ballroom, which was all marble floors and crystal chandeliers. Selina had stolen some impressive sums of money and had ripped off more jewelry stores that she could remember, but she’d never seen this kind of wealth. The ballroom on its own could fit her tiny apartment a dozen times, and just one jewel from the chandelier could pay her rent for a year. Selina couldn’t help but scowl when she saw that buffet that was laid out over ten tables. There were people dying – children starving – in the Narrows, and the bluebloods could afford all of this. Unbelievable.

“Hey there beautiful,” a slimy voice said at her shoulder. Selina turned to see a boy in a perfectly-tailored suit walk up to her, smirking. “You know, someone as pretty as you should smile more,” he said with what he obviously thought was a charming smile of his own. “Lucky for you, I noticed you anyway.”

“Lucky for me,” Selina repeated blandly.

“Rodger Tate,” he said, not getting the hint. Did they not teach sarcasm at Gotham Prep? “What’s your name beautiful?” Selina stiffened, feeling his arm snake around her waist.

“Catalina,” she said, ignoring every one of her instincts that shouted at her to force him away. Selina fixed a vapid smile to her face, allowing Rodger to lead her onto the dance floor. She needed to get to the East Wing of the mansion anyway, and marching across the ballroom floor would draw attention. So she let the baby blueblood hold her hand and grab her waist and guide her around the enormous room.

“Rodger!” Selina’s smile died on her lips as Bruce Wayne walked up to them. Selina’s heart jumped and she ducked her head, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Wayne,” Rodger said, shaking his hand. “Thanks for the invite, man.” They lapsed into remising about prep school and Selina took the opportunity to shake Rodger off and disappear back into the crowd. She wove between the gala’s patrons, trying to regulate her breathing. That had been way too close. She couldn’t really blame him considering that it was his party, but it was starting to feel like he was stalking her. It was time to get moving, anyway. Selina didn’t have all night.

            She danced her way to the other side of them room and slipped away down a side hallway. She didn’t go straight to the East Wing, instead making her way to the kitchen, where her duffel and a change of clothes were waiting for her. As much as she liked her little black dress, it wasn’t conducive to a major heist.

“You owe me Sel,” one of the workers said, handing over the bag.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Selina said. She changed quickly, replacing the dress with black jeans and, t-shirt, and jacket, along with comfortable sneakers. She a blade in one of her sleeves – an unnecessary precaution she was sure, but they made her feel better. Finally, she pulled on a pair of gloves, slung the bag over her shoulder and picked her way through the dark, unoccupied halls. A few of the hallways were blocked off by locked grates, but she made short work of them. Selina had never come across a lock she couldn’t pick.

After that, it was easy. There were a few more doors to break into, but the Penguin had given Selina a list of the things she needed to steal. He didn’t say how he’d gotten it, or how he knew what artifacts were the deceased Waynes’, and she didn’t ask. It was easier that way. There wasn’t much to get. It was almost a little sad, how little of the original Waynes there was left in the house. Absently, Selina wondered where it had all gone. Had Bruce thrown away his parents’ things when they died? Or had they just not been the kind of people to keep personal items? That didn’t seem likely. Bluebloods loved their toys, the lot of them, even philanthropists like Thomas and Martha Wayne. Even so, Selina went through each room on the just like a good little thief and picked up every last thread that connected the prince of Gotham to his parents. It was easy.

It was wrong. Selina shook her head, reaching into a glass case full of priceless items and plucking out the leather-bound book that was hidden within it. She didn’t care about right and wrong, she cared about not dying. Like Oswald had said, Gerard wanted to kill her, and Selina had seen firsthand what he could do to people. They didn’t even look like humans by the time he was done with them. She was living on a probationary basis, and if she could prove that she was useful, they wouldn’t kill her. Right and wrong didn’t matter. Right and wrong couldn’t matter, not if she wanted to keep breathing.

“You look different.” Selina froze in the last room, her hand inches away from the last item: An antique stethoscope. Thomas Wayne came from a long line of doctors, helping to build the family fortune before Thomas himself had gone into business and become one of the richest men to walk the earth. “I almost didn’t recognize you before, when you were with Rodger.”

“No offense buddy,” Selina said cavalierly, turning to face him, “but you are a real pain in my ass.”

“Likewise,” Wayne said, sounding almost amused. He was smiling, while she was standing in his home with a bag full of his stolen stuff. “And you are nearly impossible to get ahold of.”

“Sorry, I don’t date bluebloods,” Selina said. Wayne laughed again. He was _laughing_ at her. She was starting to think that his parents’ death had left him with more than a touch of PTSD. More like complete and total psychosis. “If you’ll excuse me.” She moved to push past him and Wayne threw out an arm, barring her way. “Move,” she ordered.

“No. I have questions.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Selina said, her voice low and dangerous. Wayne barked a short, derisive laugh.

“I doubt you could.” Selina bristled at the challenge, slipping her knife out of her sleeve and holding it at the ready. She wanted to laugh out loud when Wayne reached for a fencing saber, an honest-to-God sword. She’d been expecting a gun, or for him to call security at the very least, but it seemed like Wayne wanted the fight.

Almost as much as Selina did. She circled around the office and Wayne matched her step for step, sweeping his saber in long, low arcs. Selina could see that it wasn’t dull like normal practice swords, but would cut through her as easily as any knife. She waited, a small smile playing on her lips, until Wayne rushed forward, slashing at her. Selina could’ve cheered. Rule one of any fight: Never make the first move. It allowed your opponent to learn too much about your fighting style. Selina ducked away from the blade, blood thrumming in her veins. She was fast and smart, but that didn’t help the fact that she’d brought a knife to a swordfight. His reach was far longer than hers and she couldn’t get inside of his guard, no matter how quick she was.

Besides, Selina was improvising. She’d never even _seen_ anyone use a sword before – there was a mercenary a few years back that had been known for running people through with katanas, but he’d been locked up. She danced around the office, avoiding every advance, trying to get close.

"So,” Selina said conversationally, hopping lightly onto the desk to avoid getting skewered. “If you win – and you won’t – what do you get out of it?”

“I told you – ” Wayne said, slashing at her feet. Selina danced out of the way, stepping over the saber like it was a jump rope “ – I have questions.”

“God you’re boring,” Selina sighed, jumping over the sword again, but landing on it this time. It was more of an accident than anything, but Wayne was thrown off-balance, caught in a lunge. He yanked the blade out from under her and Selina leaped at him, seeing the opening. Wayne stumbled backwards, bringing the saber up faster than Selina anticipated. She froze, suddenly unable to move unless she wanted to get her throat slashed. Wayne blinked, looking as surprised as Selina felt.

“Do it,” she whispered, feeling the blade prick her throat. “Kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Wayne said uncertainly.

“Then let me go,” Selina tried.

“I can’t do that either.”

Selina smiled bitterly, feeling her heart sink in her chest. “I’m dead either way, billionaire.” If he didn’t let her go he’d call security, and then the mansion would be on high alert. People would hear about it. People like Gerard and the Penguin, and then she wouldn’t last the week.

“Who _are_ you?” Wayne demanded, lowering the saber just a fraction. “Who’s trying to kill you?”

“You.” Selina snapped. “You, you stupid, idiotic, pretentious rich boy, you are _killing me_.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You saw me! And because you saw me, because you are a witness, they are going to kill me.” Selina took a long, shuddering breath. “If you call security, they are going to kill me.”

“Who?” Wayne asked.

“They’re going to kill me,” Selina said, clenching her free hand and feeling nails digging into her skin. “They are going to kill me, and I want you to know that when they do, it is _your fault_.” Wayne forwent the saber entirely and stepped towards her, eyes shining with something that looked like concern. He tried to say something but Selina struck, smashing the handle of her knife into the base of Wayne’s skull. He crumpled and Selina barely caught him before he fell to the floor. “Sorry,” she said, laying him down. “I’m not dying on your account.” Selina grabbed the stethoscope and locked the door behind her. Someone would notice that Wayne was missing, but not for a while, not with so many people downstairs.

Selina retraced her steps back to the kitchen and snuck into the garage. There was a van waiting for her with the keys in the ignition, something she’d arranged beforehand. After clearing the Hill, Selina wiped all of her prints and abandoned the van. She caught a bus back to the Narrows, going over the heist again and again in her head. She’d been telling the truth. She had told Wayne the truth. He was killing her, and if she didn’t do the job, Gerard would kill her.

Selina wanted to keep living. Which reminded her.

“Manny I need one more favor, and this one I’ll pay for.” Selina said without preamble.

“ _Jesús Cristo_ , Alleycat.” Manny growled on the other end of the phone.

“I’m sorry, I really am. Please.”

“Fine. What do you need?”

“Wayne’s security feeds. I want them gone.”

“Selina…”

“I know you can do it, Manny, so just do it.” Selina hung up, not waiting to hear his response. It was an extra precaution, but Selina knew it was necessary. She’d spoken to him, to Wayne. She’d spoken to him as herself. And all he’d wanted was to know why she had stopped to help him. _I’ll let you know if I ever figure that out myself, billionaire_ , Selina thought bitterly. That was what had started this whole mess.

Well now, hopefully, she could finish it.

“Oh, Selina, you have done well by us,” Gerard purred when she showed up at the bar, back to his polite, complimentary persona. “This is everything we asked for. I assume there were no problems?”

“Never are,” Selina lied easily.

“I told you she would be useful,” Oswald said, gloating and smug. “You may go, Selina.”

“He’s going to call the cops,” Selina said, stupidly not doing what she was told. What else was new? “Wayne. Like you said, people get very attached to their stuff.”

“Don’t you worry about that, dear girl,” Gerard said. “We have friends inside the force.” So does he, Selina wanted to say, but she knew better than to push it. “Like Oswald said, you may go. We know where to find you.” Selina inclined her head and left, feeling panic and dread swirling in her stomach. They knew where to find her. She wasn’t done. They were going to keep her as their little pet reaper and there was nothing she could do about it.

She wanted to scream. She’d done what they’d asked, and some small, hopeful part of her had thought that they would set her free once the job was done. Selina wanted to kick herself for even entertaining the notion. Of course they wouldn’t let her go; she was too dangerous, she knew too much. And now, the rest of her life would be doing jobs for them, always looking over her shoulder, until the day they decided that she was too dangerous to keep around. She was theirs now. Selina dug her nails into her palm, feeling tears welling in her eyes. She couldn’t show weakness, not here. Her people could sense it from miles away.

But she couldn’t stop them as soon as she rushed through the door of her no-longer safe apartment and locked the door behind her. Tears spilled over, wetting her cheeks and Selina couldn’t help but think that it was all for nothing. She’d done the job in hopes of being free, she’d stolen every last connection Wayne had with her parents, for no reason. It was over.

She was trapped.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's responded to this fic! You all are amazing and your support means everything to me. Have a happy Thanksgiving!


	5. Ivy Pepper

They didn't come for her. For weeks, no one came looking. Selina kept an ear to the ground, listening to see if Wayne had alerted the police, but yet again, he was quiet. It seemed like Gerard and the Penguin were appeased and that they were going to leave her well alone. For now, at least.

Selina spent the better part of the week after her heist hiding in her apartment, positive that there would be men in black masks, or worse wearing badges, waiting for her outside. But when it was clear that they weren't coming for her, at least not until the weekend was over, Selina ventured into the outside world. There weren't many places that she could go, not with Gerard's network of contacts in the Narrows, and she couldn't afford for him to find her hiding place.

She snuck over rooftops as well as zigzagging down alleyways, just in case someone was tailing her. When Selina was confident that no one was following her, she finally made her way to a small building on the river. She hadn't been there in weeks – too much had gone on for her to be able to spare the time. It was a workshop. Her workshop, to be specific. Nothing official, just somewhere that Selina could take things apart and put them back together. She liked fixing things, she had for as long as she could remember. Everything had a place, everything had a purpose, everything made sense. And most importantly, no one was trying to kill her.

It wasn't much: Small and cluttered, and there was a beat-up old car in the very middle with its hood popped open. The windows were blacked out and there was a fine layer of dust over everything, not to mention motor oil and other grime everywhere. With engine parts and other scraps of metal strewn over worktables and the floor, the whole building was a mess. Exactly the opposite of her apartment back in the Narrows, where everything was neat and orderly, and everything had its place.

Selina loved every inch of it.

Besides, she was sentimental. Before she broke into buildings, Selina broke into cars. She had a knack for disabling the alarms and was soon sought after by everyone and anyone who made a living by stealing or dismantling vehicles. She'd steal them; they'd take them apart. It wasn't a bad gig, and Selina had learned a lot in the process. Not to mention being able to hot-wire a car wasn't a bad skill to have. She still had contacts in chop shops and junkyards across the city.

Her newest project was an old junker. An ancient Chevy Thunderbird that had been discarded and left to rust. Selina had rescued it, and had been trying to fix it back up on and off for months. She didn't have anywhere to go when it was fixed, she didn't even have a license, but having something to work on was the important thing. Selina didn't do well with boredom. She'd spent her whole life moving, working, fighting. Moments of stillness and quiet were like poison. They slowed her down, and that could get her killed.

So when she didn't have work, she had projects. Take an engine apart. Put it back together and make it better and faster than before. Create something new out of spare parts. Restore a car. Anything to stay busy.

Selina was under the old Chevy, laying on her back with a flashlight in her mouth and a wrench in her hand when she heard movement outside. Someone rattled on the door and Selina swung out from under the Thunderbird, jumping to her feet and holding the wrench like it was one of her knives. The door shook again and Selina could hear the lock pop open. _Note to self: Get better locks_. Holding the wrench at the ready, Selina pressed her back against the against the wall to the right of the door and waited. The door opened slowly and Selina exploded into motion before stopping dead when she saw who it was who'd broken in.

"Really?" the intruder said, putting her hands on her hips. "You were going to bludgeon me to death with a wrench? Sloppy, Sel."

"Ivy," Selina said, her mind working to catch up to her racing heart. The girl in her doorway grinned through a wild tangle of red hair and Selina dropped the wrench, pulling her into a crushing hug. "Holy hell, Ivy, what are you doing out?" Selina asked when they broke apart, studying her at arms length. Ivy was the only one who knew that Selina had this place, but she'd been locked up for two years. Selina hadn't even considered that she would be the one at the door.

"Good behavior. I'm young, I'm reformed." Ivy said, looking pleased with herself. Selina snorted.

"You have never behaved a day in your life."

"True, but the warden doesn't need to know that," Ivy said with a delicate shrug. She let herself into the workshop and perched on an unoccupied stool. "So," she said without preamble, as if she hadn't just appeared after being in jail for two years, "updates since you last saw me: Juvie was fun, made some friends. A few enemies."

"Hence being sent to Blackgate," Selina cut in wryly. Ivy had been dragged to a juvenile detention center for a year, and then finally to Blackgate at eighteen. One of the youngest ever female residents.

"He had it coming."

"You put bleach in the kid's ginger ale!"

"He had it coming," Ivy said, oddly serious for a moment before her eyes sparked with mischief again. "Prison is boring. Everyone is tedious, and the greenhouse!" she said, sounding bereaved. "The greenhouse was deplorable, Sel. Everything was dead and they wouldn't give me anything to plant. It was a nightmare." Selina laughed and Ivy pouted at her. "I'm not kidding." Selina knew she wasn't, that was what was so funny. Ivy, true to her name, had always had a weird thing with plants. "You mock my pain," Ivy complained and Selina rolled her eyes at the dramatics.

"You spent almost a year in prison and your top complaint is the greenhouse." Selina said, picking her wrench up and scooting back under the Chevy. "Good to see that some things never change."

"I'm a cartoon character, I know it," Ivy said, her voice sounding muffled from the several tons of car on top of Selina. "So how have you been? Please tell me you've been having more fun than I have."

"Same old, same old." Selina said, swearing as she yanked too hard on a bolt and engine parts rained down on her. "Shit, ow."

"Still breaking things, I see," Selina could practically hear the smirk in her voice. "Do you still have connections with Gerard and his guys?" Selina paused for a little too long, seeing the gun at her head, the Penguin's promise that Gerard would rend her to pieces if she wasn't a good pet.

"Yeah," she said finally. "And anyone else who can afford me. I'm not picky." A payday was a payday, but Selina wasn't sure how much work she'd be doing outside of the Falcone crime family anymore. Gerard was always talking about how he wanted her all for himself. Or was she Maroni now that the Penguin owned a piece of her soul? She didn't know. Didn't really want to know. "Hand me the other flashlight, will you?" Selina said, realizing that she'd been quiet for too long. They'd been apart for over two years, but Ivy had always been able to read her. Not that Selina was talkative anyway, or ever had been. Ivy didn't comment on her silence, just handed Selina the flashlight, chatting absently about her escapades in prison. Selina listened as she worked, laughing at her friend's antics and asking questions to keep the stories coming, privately glad that Ivy wasn't asking any questions. There was so much going on: Gerard and the Penguin, their deal, Bruce Wayne showing up in every aspect of her life… Selina was still trying to sort it all out herself. It wasn't fair, or safe, to dump all of that on Ivy. She'd just been set free, after all. She should be allowed to enjoy it.

"Okay," Ivy said after telling Selina about how she'd sort-of started a prison riot. Selina protested as she was pulled out from under her Thunderbird. "What is going on with you?" Selina quietly took back her thanks that Ivy wasn't pressing. Obviously her time behind bars had done nothing to temper her curiosity.

"What?" Selina said, faking ignorance. She sat up, starting to put away her tools.

"Don't pull that shit with me," Ivy said, seeing through her immediately. "What happened? Something big, or you wouldn't be so damn squirrely."

"Nothing," Selina said. Lie. She was so far out of her depth that she couldn't even see the surface anymore, let alone know how to navigate the new waters. "V, come on, would I lie to you?" The conviction on Ivy's face wavered and Selina felt a pang of guilt in her chest. They didn't lie to one-another, never had. It was a rule that neither had broken since they teamed up years ago. "I'm being a shit host," Selina said, closing her toolbox and wiping oil into her jeans. "Let's go do something fun." Finally, Ivy nodded and Selina felt the guilt expand. But she couldn't tell the truth, because if Selina went down, Ivy would be dragged down with her. Just like when they were kids. It had taken a while – it wasn't easy for two kids used to taking care of themselves to admit that they needed someone – but they eventually became a unit, scouting and stealing together. There was no lock that Selina couldn't pick, no door that she couldn't crack open. For her part, Ivy was a chemical genius. Poisons, toxins, she could make them all, and sold them to the highest bidder. They were a team, and together, they'd thrived, when every odd said that they should have died within weeks of living on the streets.

"It's you and me, Sel, just like always." Ivy said. Selina didn't answer, still gathering up her tools. "Hey. Say it." Ivy insisted, placing her hand on Selina's shoulder.

"You and me," Selina said finally. The words burned like acid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this update is so long coming. My computer crashed and I lost 10 pages of this fic that I had to rewrite. Enjoy!


	6. Invaded

Selina was glad that Ivy was home. Ivy was pushy, a pain in the ass, and certifiably insane, and Selina had missed her. They watched each-other’s backs and Selina sorely needed someone on her side. But even so, she couldn’t help but worry that Ivy being home made them both more vulnerable. Selina was fighting for her life, and she didn’t need to give Gerard any more weapons to use against her. He was already gunning for the St. Bart’s kids, she didn’t want Ivy to get stuck in the crosshairs as well.

Needless to say, Selina was nervous. Fear was a powerful motivator, and Selina had no romantic notions about her own bravery. She’d grown up under a bridge after running away from the orphanage. She’d given up a life of comfort to scraping by on a daily basis and going hungry more often than not. Selina had seen more deaths than she could count, and when it came down to it, she would always choose to save her own skin. She wasn’t brave. But she was alive, and fully intended to stay that way.

“Sel,” Ivy griped over the phone, nearly a week after she’d been released. “This place is a hellhole. You have to rescue me. They won’t let me near any chemicals, not even cleaning supplies.” Selina rolled her eyes, despite nearly jumping out of her skin when the phone had rang. It was a burner, one that Selina hadn’t used since Ivy had been arrested and that only she had the number to. Selina was surprised that Ivy remembered the number. Then again, Ivy had the best memory of anyone Selina knew. She’d had already told her about Tommy’s disappearance – leaving out the bits that involved Gerard and the Penguin – and Ivy promised to get right on it. If anyone could find a lost kid, Ivy could.

“You’re a convicted poisoner,” Selina said reasonably. “They have to take that into account.”

“I’m not going to poison anyone here,” Ivy protested. “Well, there is one girl who’s really starting to get on my nerves.”

“It’s been a week.” Selina deadpanned. “You’re stuck there for a year. Please don’t get sent to jail again.”

“I know, I know, play nice with the kiddies,” Ivy sighed. “It’s just so _boring_.”

“Oh quit griping,” Selina said, grinning. She could practically see Ivy melodramatically throw her arm over her forehead at the horror of it all. The very next second the smile died on her lips as someone knocked softly on the door. “Hold on,” she whispered into the phone, placing one hand on the knife stashed in the waistband of her jeans. Putting an eye to the peephole, Selina let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Jeannie,” Selina said, her voice heavy with relief. The little girl was on her doorstep, sucking on a lollypop and smiling like it was Christmas. “You are not supposed to be here.”

“But I missed you,” Jeannie protested. “And your friend wanted to see you. He gave me this lolly.” Jeannie waved her prize, smiling happily.

“My friend?” Selina asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Selina,” an unfortunately familiar and entirely unwelcome voice said, stepping into her field of view. He smiled at her, obviously for Jeannie’s benefit. “Good to see you again.”

“V,” Selina said into the phone, her mind whirring out of control. “I have to call you back.”

“You okay?” Ivy asked, suddenly urgent. Selina didn’t answer, just hung up, still trying to process. Bruce Wayne. Here. At her door. In the Narrows.

Shit.

“Thank you for showing me how to get here,” Wayne said, kneeling at Jeannie’s side. Selina wanted to scream at Jeannie to run away. Instead she just stood in her doorway, watching as the billionaire slipped Jeannie a fifty-dollar bill. He’d traded in his suit for jeans in a hoodie since the gala, but no one would think that he belonged here.

“Bye Lina!” Jeannie said happily, waving and clutching the bill in her little fist. She took off running, off to spend her prize on candy no doubt. Selina watched her go, suddenly thinking of Tommy. The last time she’d seen him, he had been running to spend the money she’d given him. Half of her wanted to run after the little girl and make sure that she got home okay, but Selina had a much bigger problem to deal with.

“Sweet kid,” Wayne said idly, looking past her into the apartment. “Nice place. I figured it would be bigger considering the whole ‘career criminal’ thing. Then again, does Falcone get a cut? Aren’t you in his territory?” At Falcone’s name, the Selina snapped back to reality.

"Shut up,” she snarled. “And get out.” He couldn’t be here. Gerard had eyes all over the Narrows and the billionaire had undoubtedly already tripped alarms. He had to go.

Selina was halfway through slamming the door in his face when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Three long rings, three short, and then three long again. SOS. Gerard had his spies and Selina had hers – mostly old contacts from her years under the overpass – and one of then had just tipped her off. He was coming.

Shit.

“Get in,” Selina said, grabbing his sleeve and dragging Wayne inside. He swore and ripped his arm out of her grasp, glaring.

“Hey, watch it,” he said warily, the patronizing demeanor vanishing. Selina didn’t respond, too busy trying to think her way out. Gerard was coming and Wayne was _in her apartment_. She cast about for a hiding place but her home was small and not well equipped for high-stakes hide-and-seek. Finally, Selina marched to her hall closet and threw the door open.

“Get in.”

“You’re insane,” Wayne objected immediately, his dark eyes scanning her face. Selina didn’t disagree, but now wasn’t the time to argue her sanity.

“He’s coming, and if he sees you here, we’re both going to die.” Selina said urgently, feeling like she was trying to convince a brick wall. “If you hear gunfire, don’t come out. Wait thirty minutes and then go to the police.” Selina didn’t know if Gerard was coming to kill her but if he was she was going to make damn sure that the police knew who did her in.

"Is everything so life and death with you?” Wayne asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Life and death things are.”

“Selina,” a sing-songy voice floated through the door. Selina’s head snapped towards the voice, feeling ice crawl through her veins even as her heart sped. Gerard.

“God dammit,” Selina swore, turning back to Wayne. “Look, billionaire, I don’t want to die and he will kill us if he sees you here.”

“Who?” Selina wanted to scream at him.

“Someone who scares me a hell of a lot more than you do so _get in the goddamn closet_.” Wayne stared at her for three terrifying seconds longer before he let her push him inside and lock the door behind him.

“Gerard,” Selina said warmly, opening the door and forcing her lips up into a smile. She didn’t have enough time to calm her racing heart, but she managed to keep her face from betraying her panic. “You know, this is my home, and if you’d like to discuss business, I’d prefer it be at the bar.”

“A little touchy, are we?” Gerard said innocently, striding past her.

“Well I seem to remember your new business partner marching in here, threatening me, and then giving me a job. I’d prefer if that were a one-time thing, you understand. I don’t shit where I eat.”

“A little coarse, but I take your meaning. This isn’t a business call, however. I’m just here to congratulate you.”

“Congratulate me,” Selina repeated.

“Your work on the Wayne job was marvelous, simply marvelous. You’ve proven yourself once again to be an incomparable asset. And I hope your friend – Ivy is it? – comes to work with us as well.” Selina nodded, taking care to make sure that her smile didn’t drop.

“I’m sure that she’ll be in touch. You’d be lucky to have her.”

“I’m sure we would,” Gerard said. “However, she will be considerably less valuable if you’ve shared…certain information. I know that you two are close.” Selina suddenly understood. He wanted to make sure that Selina hadn’t told Ivy about double-crossing Falcone.

"Of course not,” Selina said. “I know what happens to people who talk.”

“Good.” Gerard said, nodding. He brightened suddenly. “I’m glad you have a friend in our particular line of work. I do worry about you, Selina. You’re a very lonely child.”

“I haven’t been a child in years,” Selina replied, fighting to keep the edge out of her voice. “But I do appreciate your concern.”

“You know you’re like family to me, Selina,” Gerard said, cupping her chin. Selina had to force herself not to flinch away. “The closest thing I have to a daughter.” _Do you threaten the rest of your family at gunpoint?_ The question echoed in Selina’s mind. “Now, I’ve got to go. Things to do, people to see, you understand.” Translation: I’m done with proving to you that you are completely under my power. For now.

“Thank you for stopping by,” Selina said politely, holding the door open for him.

“Goodbye Selina.” Gerard said, kissing her on the cheek. “I suspect that I’ll be seeing you again soon.” He paused halfway out the door and Selina could swear that he looked directly at the closet where Wayne was hiding. She breathed an in audible sigh of relief when he moved on without a second glance. Selina closed the door behind him and watched through the peephole as Gerard got into a car and drove off.

“I need a new apartment,” Selina muttered to herself. Far too many people knew where she lived now. She needed to get off of the grid, go underground. Just for a while.

But she had a bigger problem than apartment hunting. A billionaire hidden in her closet was the much more pressing issue. Selina opened the door and froze, suddenly eye-to-eye with the barrel of a gun. Glock 42. .380 caliber automatic. Safety off and held steady. Clearly, Wayne wasn’t playing around.

“Put that away before you hurt yourself,” Selina growled, trying her best to look bored. She hated guns. _Hated_ them. They were loud, imprecise, and any idiot could use them. Case and point: Bruce Wayne had one.

“Who was that?” Wayne demanded. “Answer me,” he ordered when Selina just glared.

“Or what?” she challenged. “You’ll shoot me?” In a burst of crazy bravado, Selina grabbed the muzzle of the gun and pressed it against her own forehead. “Do it then. Shoot me.” Some small part of her realized that this was the second time she’d asked the billionaire to kill her, but Selina couldn’t bring herself to care. At this point, she was dead either way. For a long time she’d just thought that she was good at surviving. Living under a bridge at the ripe old age of ten? Fine, no problem, Selina had managed. Navigating a city full of gang-bangers and cops that were somehow even worse? Easy. She’d learned how to play the game and play it well. But ever since she’d stumbled in on Gerard and the Penguin, Selina had sensed that her time was running out. Maybe this was where the clock stopped.

For a single moment, Selina thought that he would pull the trigger, but then Wayne pulled away, his eyes downcast and the gun hanging limply by his side.

“I’m not going to shoot you,” he said heavily.

“Then put it away,” Selina said again. “Better yet, give it to me.” Selina outstretched her hand and Wayne’s eyes flashed suspiciously.

“What so you can shoot me?” Selina rolled her eyes and lunged forward, twisting the gun out of his hand. Her knife flashed up, a warning, and Wayne stilled. Selina emptied the magazine onto the floor and popped out the single bullet in the chamber, feeling marginally better once it was disarmed.

“I don’t like guns,” Selina said simply, tossing it back to him. True, but she also didn’t want Wayne armed in her apartment. “Enjoy your paperweight.”

“So knives but not guns?” Wayne asked, tucking the useless gun into the waistband of his jeans.

“They're are impersonal,” Selina said, looking away from him. “If you’re going to kill someone, you owe it to them to see the look on their face when they die.” Wayne stared at her openly, caught off-guard by the rare burst of honesty. Selina scowled, realizing that she’d said too much, and threw open a back window. “Now. Get out of my apartment before I see the look on your face when _you_ die.”

“But – ” Wayne started and Selina felt her frayed nerves finally snap.

“ _Get out!_ ” she shrieked, hurling her knife at him. It stuck into the wall inches from his head, the handle quivering from the force of the throw. Wayne paled and pulled himself through the window without another word. Selina watched until he turned the corner and then pulled her phone out of her pocket, hitting the second number on speed-dial.

“Leo?” she said to one of the guys in her homeless network. “There’s a kid leaving my place now. I need you to follow him and make sure that he gets out of the Narrows. No, don’t make contact. Just signal me when he’s out. Yeah. Bye.” Selina managed to hang up before her hands started shaking. Gerard and Wayne in her apartment. At the same time. Selina didn’t believe in any kind of God, but if she did, she would have sworn that he was screwing her over. Or trying to give her a heart attack. Her breath was coming in quick, short gasps and Selina could swear that the room was getting smaller. She fell against the wall, sinking into a heap on the floor and pulling her knees in tight to her chest.

It was too much. Wayne, Gerard, the Penguin, all of it. Selina couldn’t handle it all. She didn’t know how much time had passed when her phone vibrated twice. Wayne had gotten out. Selina breathed an inexplicable sigh of relief and then buried her head in her arms, frustrated. She shouldn’t care whether or not Wayne got out of Narrows in one piece, it was none of her business. She didn’t care, she couldn’t afford to care. She had her own problems to deal with without worrying about the safety of one goddamn billionaire. Blood pounded in her ears and Selina had to bite her lip to keep from sobbing.

Christ, she was scared.

* * *

 

Bruce made it all the way to the bus station before his hands started shaking.

“How was your outing, Master Wayne?” Alfred asked when Bruce stumbled through the main doors.

“Fine,” he muttered, making a beeline for his father’s study. Bruce still couldn’t think of it as his own. He slammed the door behind him and collapsed onto the couch, his hands still trembling violently. He shouldn’t have gone there. Bruce didn’t know what was _wrong_ with him. He didn’t know what possessed him to track the girl – Selina, her name was Selina – down. He didn’t know why he was so obsessed with finding her. Bruce had always thrown himself headlong into projects, latching onto an idea or, in this case, a person. Alfred had called them “flights of fancy,” but none of them had been this dangerous. He could’ve gotten them both killed.

Bruce hung his head, replaying the whole afternoon in his mind, over and over. He was sure that whoever the man at the door was, he was worse than Bruce could have ever imagined. When he was hiding in the closet, he’d been sure that she was going to turn on him and give him up. He’d been ready to fight, that’s why he had his gun out. Stupid. He shouldn’t have been running around the Narrows with a gun in the first place.

He’d thought that he was so smart, being able to track her down when clearly she didn’t want anyone to be able to find her. Not even Detective Gordon had put it all together. But that wasn’t what drove him to the most dangerous neighborhood in the city, knocking on the door of a girl who’d stolen from him and attacked him in his own home. She’d just seemed so _scared_ at the gala, even when she was coming at him with a knife. Like she hadn’t wanted to be there at all. And then she’d said that someone was going to kill her – that _he_ was going to get her killed. Bruce had to understand, he had to know who it was she was so afraid of.

And in doing so he’d put them both in more danger than they’d started out in. Bruce should have recognized his mistake the moment she’d opened the door. His first thought was that she looked vulnerable – she’d quickly proven him wrong, but at first glance, he’d thought that she seemed completely defenseless. In every other encounter she’d worn her clothes like armor; to protect herself, to blend in. But in a Gotham Knights T-shirt and jeans, the armor was gone, stripped away until she was just a person no more dangerous than anyone else. But it wasn’t the vulnerability that Bruce couldn’t get out of his head, or the fear coursing through his veins like poison when he was sure that she was going to give him up.

It was the way she’d looked at him, with eyes clearer and greener than he’d ever seen before. She pressed the gun to her own forehead and refused to look away, glaring at him with a mixture of defiance, despair, and an insane kind of bravery. Like she wanted him to pull the trigger, like she was daring him to.

Bruce shook his head.. He’d just wanted to understand, but how could he understand someone like her? He’d never lived in the kind danger that dogged her every step, never had to steal and scrape to survive. Now, at least, they had something in common.

God, he was scared.


	7. Romance and Violence

“Selinaaaaaa.” Selina had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. Ivy’s face was inches from her own, and she stank of tequila. “Selina guess what, Selina? I’m in _looooove_.”

“Ivy it is three in the morning and you are drunk,” Selina said, trying to calm her heart. The news that Ivy was in love wasn’t surprising. She fell in and out of love faster than anyone Selina had ever known. “You’re going to get in trouble for sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

“No one will miss me. I’m the smartest one there, unless you were there, in which case you would be the smartest one there, but you’re not there. I wish you were there, but that would mean that you were in jail and jail is not fun. Not fun Selly.” Ivy said, her words slurring. Selina sat up, leaning on one elbow. Ivy’s eyes were huge, her pupils blown wide.

“Shit, V, are you high?” Selina asked, her voice ringing with disbelief. Ivy had always had a high-tolerance for drugs and alcohol. Enough booze could get anyone drunk, but Selina had never seen Ivy successfully get high.

“Yes,” Ivy said happily. “It’s wonderful. Everything is so…spinny. And I am in love, so in love!” Selina shook her head, throwing back the covers so that Ivy could crawl in next to her. She couldn’t send Ivy back to the home like this, and Selina was happy for the company. She hadn’t slept in over a week, not since Gerard and Wayne had invaded her apartment. Every little noise woke her, and she’d started sleeping with her knife under her pillow, instead on the dresser beside her bed. And then there were the nightmares, filled with Gerard’s sickly-sweet voice and the look Wayne had given her when she’d told him to shoot her. His eyes dark and accusing, shocked and horrified. Every time she tried to sleep, he stared at her from behind her eyelids.

“Selina,” Ivy said, pouting. “You’re not listening to me.”

“You’re in love,” Selina parroted, trying to refocus. She smiled a little. “I’m hurt. I thought that I was the great love of your life.”

"Oh you know I love you,” Ivy said, swatting at Selina’s nose. “But you’re not my type. This girl is amazing! She’s a med student so she’s really smart, and she likes chemistry! Do you know how hard it is to find a girl who likes chemistry? Hard, Sel. It’s hard. You’re going to like her a lot, I know it. You have to like her because she’s important to me and you’re important to me and it’s important to me that you get along.”

“I’m sure I’ll like her.” Selina said indulgently. Ivy’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

“You’re patronizing me, but I don’t care. I’m going to sleep.”

“Okay, go to sleep.” Selina said. Ivy smiled and snuggled forward, pressing her forehead to Selina’s. Selina closed her eyes and, for the first time in a week, slept.

“I am never drinking again,” Ivy proclaimed, padding into the kitchen the next morning. Selina snickered from where she stood at the stove, pouring pancake batter into a skillet. She wasn’t a breakfast person, or much of a cook either, but Selina had figured that Ivy would need it. “And Jesus, when they say ‘hugs, not drugs,’ they are not kidding.”

“I think you should thank the tequila for the hangover. You look terrible. And yes, please help yourself to my clothes.” Selina commented drily, noting that Ivy had ditched the crop top and miniskirt from the night before for a pair of Selina’s old sweatpants and a loosely-fitting T-shirt. Dark makeup smudged around her eyes and her vibrant red hair was pulled up into a messy nest atop her head.

“Never again,” Ivy said, perching herself on one of Selina’s stools and laying her head on the counter. “Never again!”

“What did you take, anyway?” Selina asked, setting a plate down in front of Ivy.

“No idea,” Ivy said, picking at the pancakes. “It was blue.”

“And what about this great love who’s replaced me?” Selina said, leaning her elbows on the counter. Ivy’s newest love interest was always a fun topic of conversation. Ivy had dated all across the spectrum: Boys, girls, criminals, and law-abiding citizens alike. Once, Selina had tried to figure out what linked them all, what it was that garnered Ivy’s interest. She’d come up blank, and eventually Selina had decided that her friend had diverse tastes. The end.

To Selina’s surprise, Ivy blushed crimson, her cheeks matching her hair. “I told you about that, huh?” she said sheepishly.

“‘Selly,’” Selina said in her best imitation of Ivy’s voice. “‘I am so in _looooooove_. She’s pretty and smart and I think she might be the one Selly.’” Selina laughed, dancing around the kitchenette.

“I do not sound like that.” Ivy insisted, glowering.

“You sound exactly like that.”

“I hate you.”

“You do not. Now, are you going to tell me about this new love of yours or no?”

“Well if you keep making fun of the whims of my heart…” she trailed off, looking offended as Selina burst into hysterical laugher. “What are you laughing at?” Selina couldn’t respond, too busy trying to breathe. She laughed until there was no sound left, and she was left gasping and red-faced. For a moment, she was almost able to regain her composure, but one look at Ivy’s outraged face had her in stiches all over again.

“I’m sorry…” she managed, breathing deeply through her nose. “I’m sorry, but when you say things like that – Shit!” Selina swore and ducked as Ivy hurled her fork across the small kitchenette. It wasn’t a strong throw and the fork clattered to the ground without sticking into the wall. “Hey!” Selina protested as Ivy picked up her knife to throw it too. “Ivy if you throw that knife at me I will take away your pancakes, so help me God.” Ivy let go of the knife, glaring sullenly.

“You are so mean to me.”

“Says the one who breaks into my apartment at three am to tell me about the latest ‘whim of the heart’ – ” Selina shrieked as Ivy threw herself across the counter, toppling them both to the ground. She tried to push Ivy off of her chest, but the redhead was at least six inches taller than her, not to mention tickling her sides. Finally, when they were both breathless with laugher, Selina gave in, holding her hands up in surrender.

“It’s a good thing I’m the only one who knows how ticklish you are,” Ivy gasped, laying on her back next to Selina. “Your street cred would fall to pieces.” Ivy grinned. “Imagine if Gerard knew how easily his favorite gives in when tickling is involved.” Selina’s heart stuttered and the smile slid off of her face before she could stop it.

“Yeah,” she said, standing so that Ivy couldn’t see. “Imagine. So tell me,” she said, changing the subject to back to something safer. “What’s her name? When did you meet her?”

“Her name’s Harley. We met at bio-chem seminar a few days ago.” Ivy said, moving back to the counter.

“Nerd.”

“Shut up. It was on the effect a rare neurotoxin on the human body. I was doing research.”

“Nerd,” Selina repeated, this time with emphasis.

Ivy stuck her tongue out. “It’s was a cool seminar,” she protested. “And I nabbed a little of the toxin from the professor.” Ivy wiggled her eyebrows like some kind of vaudeville villain and Selina rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I kind of knocked into her as a distraction to get the poison, and then her coffee was all over my shirt, so she loaned me her sweater, and I offered to buy her a new coffee.” Ivy grinned. “French vanilla, cream, no sugar. You’d love her, Sel, she’s brilliant and sweet, and we have another date tomorrow.”

“Very smooth,” Selina said. She was glad that Ivy had found someone, although she couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Selina and Ivy had only ever had one-another, and Ivy had never talked about anyone else like she was talking about this Harley. “You happy?” Selina asked after a long, pleasant silence. Ivy’s eyes flashed up, meeting Selina’s.

“Yeah. Yeah I am. Unbelievable, right?” Ivy said softly. “I didn’t think people like us got to be happy.” Selina couldn’t disagree. She knew the dangers of this life, they both did, and the life expectancy wasn’t high. “Speaking of, I was thinking about bringing her around tomorrow after the date. Obviously not here, but I was thinking about going to the bar.”

“ _No_ ,” Selina said sharply. “Sorry, that came out a little quick,” she backtracked, seeing the surprise flit over Ivy’s face. “It’s just that Gerard’s the mob and it’s his bar.”

“Yeah I know, but we’re good with the family. Gerard actually called me the other day, said that he’s got work for me if I want it.” Selina had to fight from shouting at her, to keep from begging that she didn’t take the job. But there was no way that Ivy would let an outburst like that slide, and that would put both of them in jeopardy.

“First rule of working for the mob,” Selina said, trying to keep her voice even. “You don’t bring in civilians. Speaking of…” she said as her phone started buzzing. “Talk to me.”

“Sel,” Papi said on the other line. “Turn on the TV. Channel ten.” Selina was surprised to here from him – usually Gerard was the one to call her in. But surprise or no, he sounded deadly serious and Selina flipped on the television.

“Thanks to the generous donations provided by the Wayne Association,” Detective Gordon was in the middle of saying to a throng of reporters. “We have been cracking down on mob activity. This city will no longer live in fear of gang violence. Thank you, no questions.”

“It didn’t work.” Selina breathed. The whole point of stealing from Wayne was to discourage him from getting involved with the police.

“The boss is pissed. You need to get down here.”

“Papi, if he’s mad, I’m the last one he’ll want to – ”

“Just get down here!” the bartended snapped and hung up.

“I’ve got to go,” Selina said after staring at her phone for a minute. If Gerard did want her, it would be better to go to him than for him to come to her.

"Is everything alright?” Ivy asked. “Who’s that cop on the TV?”

“I just have to go,” Selina said, quickly gathering her things and slinging her backpack across her back. “Nothing’s wrong, it’s a work thing.” She was halfway out the door when Ivy caught her hand.

“What’s going on, Sel?” Ivy demanded. “You’re doing that thing where you don’t blink.”

“I’m fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“You will explain this to me when you get back.”

“V – ”

“You _will_ explain this to me when you get back.” Ivy repeated, her voice steel and her eyes flashing in a way that Selina recognized. Ivy was not going to give in and she didn’t have time for this.

“Fine, fine, fine, but I have to leave.” Ivy withdrew her hand and Selina practically ran out the door. She didn’t know what she was going to tell Ivy, but she sure as hell couldn’t deal with it now.

 

* * *

 

“He’s in there.” Papi said the moment she burst through the doors. Selina could hear shouting from the back.

“He was _supposed_ to back down,” Gerard was ranting. “He was _supposed_ to play the spoiled, scared little kid. And yet he’s now funding a taskforce that directly works against the families?”

“I shouldn’t be hearing this,” Selina said urgently, ducking her head as if that would drown out the words.

“You’re the best, Sel, he’s going to need you. It’s better that you’re here.” He had no idea. No idea the kind of shit she was in with Gerard. Selina couldn’t blame him – he just thought that he was helping his boss – but being in at he bar when Gerard was going on a rampage was not going to end well.

“ _Papi, por favor_ …” She had to leave, she had to get out of here while she still could.

“Selina.” Too late. “You do have a talent for showing up when you are least wanted, dear girl.” There was a sudden, manic flash in his eyes and Gerard advanced on her. Selina bit her lip to keep from screaming obscenities at him and backed up as far as she could. “Did you hear what I was saying in there? _Were you spying on me?_ ”

“No,” Selina said quickly, eyes darting back and forth, looking for some kind of escape route. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“I was the one who called her, boss,” Papi interjected, sounding startled at Gerard’s violent reaction. “She heard _nada_ , she’s been with me the whole time.”

“You’re plotting against me, aren’t you?” Gerard demanded. “You’re working with the police? How else could you fail _so spectacularly_?” Selina didn’t have time brace herself as his fist met her cheek and she was thrown backwards into the wall. Her head slammed backwards and she sank to the ground, suddenly unable to stand. “You were supposed to send a message!” Gerard said, hitting her again. Selina’s head snapped to one side and her vision swam.

“Boss!” Papi protested, but it was like Gerard couldn’t hear him. He struck her again and again, until Selina lost track of time between each blow. “You’re going to kill her!” Papi shouted, finally pulling him away.

“Little bitch doesn’t deserve to live. Neither of them do,” Gerard snarled, stalking out of the bar.

“Sel, you okay?” Papi asked, hauling Selina to her feet. Selina didn’t answer at first, too busy trying to shake the ringing from her ears. Blood was trickling into one eye and she could already feel bruises forming on her jaw and cheekbone. “I don’t know what got into him. _Dios mio_ , he really messed you up.”

“I’m fine,” Selina managed in a garbled voice, spitting blood out of her mouth. Out of her one good eye she spied Gerard’s phone – he must have dropped it. “Here,” she said to Papi, picking it up. “Give this back…” Selina trailed off, attention drawn to a text message that was still up on the screen. _Oh shit_. “Just give this back to him.” She had to move, and she had to do it now.

“Sel, you sure you’re alright?” Papi insisted, hovering over her. Selina swatted his hands away and rushed out of the bar as fast as she could.

_Get rid of the Prince,_ Gerard had texted to a number that wasn’t in his contacts but that Selina recognized nonetheless. _Today._

She had to get to the Hill. Because if she was right, Bruce Wayne was going to be assassinated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this a Hanukkah gift for all of the readers who celebrate! (I'm also procrastinating studying for my chemistry final). Enjoy!


	8. Thieves, Assassins, and Billionaires

The assassin's name was Newman, mostly because one day he just showed up in Gotham on day out of the blue and started killing for sport. It turned into a race between the cops and the families who could find him first – Falcone's people won out, and he'd been on the payroll ever since. He was good, too. Efficient, smart. He never left a trace, which was what made him so valuable, and so hard to track down. In the end, he'd only come in for the money. Despite the war between Falcone and Maroni, Falcone was still the stronger, wealthier family.

And now Newman was heading to White Hill to murder the heir to the Wayne fortune, and Selina was trailing behind.

_Why?_ A small voice asked. _Why do you bother?_ Wayne knew where she lived, he knew what she did. It would be easier just to let him die. And yet she was on a bus to the richest neighborhood in the city, two Bowie knives hidden in her sleeves and one dropped into her boot. Something was driving her, and even if Selina didn't know exactly what it was, she couldn't puzzle it out now. As far as she knew, Newman had never failed to take out a target, and if Selina wanted to break his streak, she had to keep her head clear. This guy was one of the best, and while there was no-one better with a blade, there was taking down goons in alleys, and then there was going after professional killers. Selina was quite literally taking a knife to a gunfight.

Selina got off of the bus well before she reached White Hill – if this ended badly, she didn't want anyone remembering a scruffy-looking girl who definitely didn't fit the bill for a Hill resident. In her dark jeans and ratty old jacked with the hood pulled up, Selina looked as out of place here as Wayne had in the Narrows. Despite the fact that it was broad daylight, Selina didn't bother trying to hide from cameras; if she was right, Newman had already cut every CCTV camera in the area, and if she was wrong then she could always have Manny erase the tapes again. If she lived long enough to call him, that is.

Again, the little voice urged her to turn around and go home, back to her people where she would profit from Wayne's death, not put herself in danger to prevent it. Back to the Narrows where things made sense. But she stuffed that voice into the back of her mind and forged on, trying not to think about the fact that she didn't have a plan. The last time she'd broken into Wayne's mansion, she'd been in disguise, on a mission, hunting. Now, she was going into someone else's hunting ground and was almost completely exposed. Barely any weapons, no backup plan, just her. _Go home_ , the still reasonably sane part of her chimed in again as she reached the gates. _He's probably dead by now anyway_.

If he was dead, then she didn't have anything to worry about, Selina told herself as she hopped the fence and streaked across the lawn. No alarms blared and everything remained quiet, affirming her worst fears: Newman was already here. Selina didn't bother breaking in through a window or back door; if the broken lock on the front door was any indication, Newman had just waltzed in the main entryway.

How the hell was she supposed to find Wayne? Selina still had every inch of the Manor memorized, but no idea where Wayne could be, or if he was even in the house.

"Shit." Selina swore, kicking open the door of the security center. Nearly every house on the Hill had one, but being the reclusive idiot he was, Wayne didn't have any private security. The only one who kept watch was the old butler that had been manning the house since before his parents had been killed. She'd hoped that the cameras would still be on, even if the alarms had been disabled, but every screen was fuzzy with static.

"Please, please, please, please," Selina whispered, dialing her phone and trying not to panic. She was completely blind in here.

" _Hola_ ," Manny answered on the third ring.

"Thank God."

"Sel? _Que pasa_?"

"Manny, I don't have a lot of time and I can't answer any questions, but I need you to hack into the Wayne system again."

"Selina, I – "

"The cameras have been corrupted and I need you to turn them back on. Just inside the house."

"What the hell are you into, Sel?"

"I don't have time for this," Selina said, her voice hiking up an octave.

"Okay, okay," Manny said, and Selina could hear keys tapping over the phone line. "Give me thirty seconds, I've already been in this system…and…I'm in. I'm turning them back on now. Please be safe, Sel."

"Yeah," she said, hanging up without so much of a thank you. Selina stepped up to the television screens, searching for any sign of movement. "Come on," she whispered when there was nothing. "Don't be dead." Selina spied a microphone on the counter, like the kind principal's used to make school-wide announcements and quickly turned it on, praying that she wasn't signing her own death warrant. "Testing, testing," she said experimentally, gratified to hear her voice echoing throughout the halls. "Shall we play a game?" A little cheesy, but the only advantage she had was that Newman thought this would be an easy job, and everything indicated that he had one hell of a temper. "Here are the rules: I'm watching everyone, and the first one I find loses. Guess what Newman," she said, injecting as much arrogance into her voice as possible. "It's open season." Selina disconnected the microphone, eyes scanning the screens. It was an insane risk, telling both Newman and Wayne where she was, but the options weren't all that great.

After a few tense seconds, Selina spied movement on one of the televisions. A large man in a long coat, no doubt armed to the teeth.

"I see you Newman," Selina goaded, turning the mic back on. "South hallway, towards the kitchen. You're going to be disappointed, because neither of us are anywhere near there." She sighed audibly into the microphone, hoping that she was right. She didn't have eyes on Wayne yet. "God, you're boring." Newman paused at her voice before wheeling around and striding the other way. He was coming towards her. She would have to move soon, and then lose her only advantage. "Warmer," she prompted as he moved even closer to her hiding spot. "Warmer, good now down that overly dramatic staircase…dammit man, that's the wrong hallway. You call yourself as assassin and you can't even follow simple instructions?" The pixels that made up Newman on the screen stiffened and she could see him mouthing curses. Selina just hoped that she could keep him wound up enough to focus on her, until she could come up with a better plan. If this came to blows, she didn't like her chances.

Selina was so focused on Newman that she didn't notice movement on the neighboring screen. Wayne was moving towards her from the opposite direction. He was on a collision course with the assassin she'd been trying to lead him away from.

"God dammit billionaire," Selina swore, holding her knife ready. She bolted out of the surveillance room, creeping along the walls and trying not to make a sound. Newman was close and if he heard her, all hell was going to break lose.

Selina nearly bit through her lip to keep from screaming when a pale hand caught her wrist and pulled her against the wall.

"We," Wayne said smoothly, pressing his body against hers so that her arms were pinned by her side, knife and all, "have to stop meeting like this." He sounded for all the world like they'd met by some chance encounter.

"Get the hell off me," Selina snarled, hating how close he was, and that he'd gotten the drop on her. Wayne's arrogant smile vanished in an instant as he saw the bruises mottling the left side of her face and the cut above her eye that had been weeping blood since Gerard had given it to her. She hadn't exactly had time to look in a mirror, but Selina knew that she looked like death.

"Who _did_ this to you?" Wayne demanded, his voice low and fierce. His fingers gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him and Selina ripped her face away.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, unwilling to raise her voice above a whisper. "Why are you here? I was telling you where I was."

"I know, I was coming to find you."

"You _idiot_ , I was telling you where _he_ was too, so you could go the other way!" God, he was dense. Why the hell would he come in the same direction of the man who was trying to kill him?

"Who is he? How do you know who he is?"

"You are asking all the wrong – _fucking Christ, move!_ " Selina screamed, seeing Newman round the corner out of one eye. His gun was up, aiming at Wayne's exposed back. With strength she didn't know she had, Selina shoved him away from her, nearly throwing him across the hallway. Gunfire shattered the silence and bullets filled the air. In the confusion, Wayne crashed into her, slamming her into the wall again, but Selina bounced back quickly. "Run!" she shouted, grabbing Wayne's hand. Bullets nipped at their heels as they sprinted through the halls.

"In here!" Wayne said, ushering her into a room off of the main hall and locking the door behind hem.

"That's not going to hold," Selina said, eyes darting for something they could use to bar the door. She started pushing the desk in the corner, but it was too heavy. Too late she recognized the study Wayne had trapped her in the last time she was here. Irony was a bitch.

"You're bleeding," Wayne said, staring at her openmouthed. Selina blinked once, confused, pressing a hand to her shoulder. It came away bloody. Wayne hadn't hit her in the hallway, it had been the force of a bullet that had sent her sprawling. "Shit, you got shot."

"I'm fine, it's just my arm." Selina insisted, backing away when he stepped towards her. "Don't touch me!" Wayne retracted his hand as the door boomed loudly. Newman was trying to get in. "Do you have any weapons?" she asked urgently.

"Nothing in here. What about that?" Wayne asked. Selina's eyes went to the knife she'd forgotten about. Blood was flowing freely from the wound in her shoulder, gauntleting her arm and the knife's hilt in red.

"I can't use it," Selina said shortly. "They can't know I was here, or this is all for nothing." If anything got back to Gerard and his cronies about Newman being stabbed he would know that it was her, and then Selina would be number one on his shit-list, if she hadn't claimed the top spot already.

"Who?" Wayne asked once again. "Who the hell are you so goddamn afraid of?"

"People who send guys like him," Selina sniped just as the door was busted open. "Get down!" Wayne dove under the desk and Selina threw herself behind the antique couch that was nearly ripped to pieces in a hail of bullets. They were sitting ducks.

"Hey!" Wayne shouted from his pathetic excuse for a hiding place. "I'm over here! Don't you want to get paid?" Selina cursed his stupidity, her eyes catching something mounted on the wall beside her. _Who the hell mounts a whip_? She thought before an insane notion struck her. In a flash she was standing, ripping the ancient bullwhip off of its display and praying that her crazy gamble wouldn't get her shot. Again.

The whip cracked through the air, winding its way around Newman's wrist, and Selina yanked it back, tearing the gun from his hand.

"Traitor bitch," Newman growled in a low, menacing voice, pulling out another gun. "You think I don't know you, Selina Kyle? Gerard's former favorite? How pleased he will be to hear that I have dealt with you. But first." He turned back to where Wayne was still stuck and Selina launched herself over the couch, striking again with the whip and slamming her shoulder into the assassin's midsection. Her injured shoulder, naturally. The wound screamed and for her troubles, Newman barely budged. Before Selina could break away, he caught her by the throat and started to squeeze. She kicked at him, but the assassin had lifted her clear off the ground and all she could do was clutch at her throat and try to breathe. "Now you die." Selina choked and struggled for a moment longer before she felt the barrel of a gun press against her sternum. This was it. If she was being honest with herself, Selina always expected to go out like this, in a storm of gunfire. She had always known that this life would end bloody, but the one thing she'd never expected was to die a martyr.

_Idiot. You should have stayed home_ , something vindictive inside of her thought, and Selina closed her eyes, expecting to feel the bullets ripping into her chest. She flinched as a single shot rang out, but there was no pain. Maybe she was going into shock. Maybe, somehow, he'd missed, though she couldn't understand how. He'd been pressing his gun directly into her midsection. In fact, she could still feel it digging into her flesh. Her vision was starting to go dark and then the grip on her neck weakened and she dropped to the floor, gasping and spluttering.

"You keep your bloody hands off of them," an accented voice said from above her. "Well it seems that you've gotten yourself into a right bit of trouble, Master Wayne." Selina's vision swam and she couldn't get a good look at who was speaking. He was dead, that's all she knew; Newman was dead and she could see the hazy outline of his body next to hers. She needed to leave, before whoever had killed the assassin called the cops. Selina tried to rise, but there seemed to be a weight on her chest and her shoulder was on fire. Something sticky was pooling under her, wetting her cheek and oozing into her hair.

"Oh my God," a voice above her said, sounding like it was a long way away. Someone was standing over her, blocking out the light. She flinched, not liking his voice and not remembering why. "Alfred, she's bleeding. He shot her." Selina managed to lift her hand, trying to swat him away from her.

"We have to get her to a hospital."

"No! No hospitals. No… no hospitals. Don't tell…" she wheezed, wasting air, but it was important. "Don't tell them…who I…am." The last of her oxygen used up, Selina's eyes closed and she sank into the darkness.

* * *

For someone who hadn't expected to wake up at all, Selina didn't spend very much time unconscious. She had never been a slow riser – years of living under bridges and overpasses had trained her to be asleep one moment and running the next – but she'd never woken up like this. It was like someone had sent a hundred volts of electricity straight to her heart. Her eyes flashed open and screamed, pain shooting through her body like acid.

"Bloody hell!" a voice shouted and Selina felt hands on her midsection, pushing her backwards.

"Get off me!" Selina shrieked, thrashing against them. Her vision was tinged with red and she couldn't breathe without setting her lungs on fire.

"What the hell did you do?" a familiar voice asked. Wayne. She couldn't see him through her still-hazy vision, but she could feel him hovering somewhere around her.

"Old military trick. Bang on the chest, restart the heart." That would explain the jolt back into consciousness, and the overwhelming feeling that at least one rib was cracked.

"Hey, hey, look at me." Strong fingers gripped her chin and Selina gritted her teeth to keep from spitting at him. "My name's Alfred, and I'm trying to help you. If you don't stop fighting, you're going to bleed out, do you understand me?"

"It hurts," Selina ground out. Every breath burned and her shoulder was throbbing, sending shocks of pain throughout her entire body.

"Yeah, I know it does," he said, not unkindly. "The bullet is still inside of you, love. It hit something and bounced around in there. I think it nicked your collarbone."

"Fucking fantastic," Selina groaned. He was going to have to take the bullet out, and if she had to guess, there would be no painkillers involved. In short, she was in for a world of hurt. Her eyes rolled in her skull and Selina could feel herself losing consciousness again. "You should've let me die," she mumbled.

"Stay with me. Hey, stay with me." Alfred said, grabbing the sides of her face. "I need you to stay awake for me, okay? What's your name, tell me your name." No. She didn't want him to know her name. But despite her heart hammering like it was trying to punch through her ribs, Selina's thoughts were sluggish and no aliases came to mind.

"Her name is – "

"Alleycat," Selina snapped, cutting him off. It was regrettable, as far as fake names went, but Selina couldn't think of anything else. "Don't you speak for me," she growled, leaning up to glare at Wayne. His mouth was a tense, thin line and his eyes, though narrowed, shone with worry. Alfred stopped Wayne's remark with a cutting look, and pushed Selina back down.

"Okay, Alleycat. This is going to hurt."

"Give me something to bite on," Selina ordered in a moment of clarity, managing to inject some authority into her voice. To her surprise, neither argued, and Wayne passed her something. Selina didn't bother looking to see what. She stuffed the cloth into her mouth, biting down as hard as she could. She inhaled deeply and nodded at Alfred.

_Breathe_ , she told herself. _One…two_ …There was a flash of something and Selina screamed against her makeshift gag before time went fluid. She couldn't tell what was real and what was imagined, it was all just a swirling mess of voices and pain. Somewhere, someone was begging her to keep breathing, to hold on a little longer, but Selina was half-sure that she imagined it. She had moments of lucidity, but they were quickly dissolved into visions of dark eyes staring down at her, blood leaking from the corners like tears.

"Can you hear me?" Wayne's voice said from somewhere above her, cutting through the fog. Somehow, the pain had lessened. "Come on Sel – Alleycat. Give me a sign here." Selina couldn't open her eyes, but she had enough strength to whisper a single sentence.

"Don't...tell me what to do...billionaire." There was an audible sigh of relief and someone barked out a surprised laugh.

"She's going to make it." Despite everything, Selina was a survivor, through and through. Damn right she was going to make it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So finals are over (praise Jesus), so I thought I'd reward myself and all of you by posting this. Most of my train ride home was editing and finishing the ending - the back half of this chapter was not easy to write.
> 
> And if I don't get another chapter up beforehand, merry Christmas to all who celebrate! (You know what I want for Christmas? Reviews. Lots and lots of reviews.)
> 
> Enjoy!


	9. The Enchanted Castle

Selina didn’t know where she was going to wake up. The drunk tank was a possibility, or even a provisional cell at Blackgate. She’d had her name down in _that_ hotel from hell since before she lost all of her baby teeth. A hospital was also possible, though less likely. Gotham was practically bankrupt and they weren’t going to spend any more tax dollars on a wanted thief than they had to. Hospitals were for upstanding citizens; unapologetic criminals got the bare minimum. The higher-ups made sure that they wouldn’t keel over and die, and then shipped them off to a dark hole where no one would be bothered with them again.

For the first time she could remember, Selina woke slowly. Her mind was humming well before she was able to open her eyes, though to her frustration it felt like every brain cell was operating in slow motion. Still, she managed to start routing three separate escape plans – two for police precincts, one for a hospital – before the world finally filtered into focus.

Selina had spent her whole life preparing. Preparing to run from cops, preparing to fight her way out of any corner, preparing the best way to pull off a heist. Her whole life was spent preparing for something or other.

She was not prepared to wake up in a bed. A cell, yeah; a hospital cot, absolutely, but not a bed. Not only a bed, but the biggest goddamn bed she’d ever seen in her life. White fluffy pillows and everything. For a moment, Selina wasn’t sure that it hadn’t all been a dream, but when she tried to sit up her shoulder screamed in protest and every breath still stung. So. Not a nightmare then. And she wasn’t in jail, so obviously she was still in Wayne Manor.

“I would prefer prison,” Selina muttered. She stilled, feeling wet hair fall on her shoulders. Hair that should have been dry and matted with blood. A quick inspection revealed that the cut on her forehead had been taped shut, and the bullet hole in her shoulder was stitched up and bandaged, the wrapping looping under her opposite arm and ending about halfway to her elbow. She didn’t remember anyone setting her rib – the butler’s little “military trick” had fractured it for sure – but her ribcage felt mostly intact. Selina scowled, feeling her skin crawl at the idea of someone fixing her up while she was passed out. She’d always done her own doctoring, not being able to go to the hospital when she got hurt. Well, hers and Ivy’s. For all of her friend’s strengths, she was a horrible caretaker. She was a holy terror with a needle and her bedside manner was nonexistent. For as long as she’d been on her own, Selina had always put herself back together again, and she bristled at the idea of someone else taking care of her because she couldn’t.

Gingerly, Selina forced herself out of the bed, making sure that her legs could hold her before she took a step. She had no idea how long she’d been out, and that meant she has been there for too long. No doubt the cameras she’d had Manny turn back on had documented the entire altercation between her, Wayne, and Newman, and it was only a matter of time before the footage would be turned over to the police. To be honest, Selina wasn’t sure why she hadn’t already been arrested. She tested the door, rolling her eyes when it didn’t give under her touch. There wasn’t a door in Gotham that could keep her in, and this one was no different. Careful not to rip her stitches, Selina pulled out the pin that was holding the bandages together and stuck it into the lock. It wasn’t the weirdest thing she’d ever used as a lockpick.

It didn’t take much for the lock to spring free. Typical. Rich people usually spent ungodly amounts of money on external security, but didn’t take any precautions on the inside, confident that no one would get in. Which meant cheap, easy-to-pick locks. Which made Selina’s life much, much easier.

Barefoot and holding her side to keep the bandages and her rib in place, Selina padded down the hallway, consulting the mental map in her head as she made turn after turn towards the door. She had to get out of here, and soon. She was injured and unarmed, quite literally the most vulnerable she’d ever been in enemy territory, but still Selina soldiered on.

“Good, you’re awake,” a politely benign voice said from behind her. She turned slowly, pressing the pin against her forearm to conceal it. The butler, Alfred, was standing down the hall from her, holding a tray in old, veined hands. The man who’d shot Newman, the man who knew military methods of resuscitation was gone, replaced by an old English gentleman who was every inch the stereotype. Christ, there was even a silver dome covering whatever he had on the dish, it was like he was something out of a cartoon or old noir movie. “Spares me the trouble of hooking you up to an IV.”

“You’re one hell of a shot,” Selina said lightly, eying the old man up and down. He didn’t look threatening, but that, she supposed, was the point. She wouldn’t have guessed that he could shoot a man in the back or reset bones, but clearly neither of those things were beyond him.

“Thank you,” he said, inclining his head slightly and looking pleased. “Now, I would ask you what you were doing out of bed, but I had you pegged as a fussy patient.”

“Well I saved your boy’s life, you dug a bullet out of my shoulder, so I’d say we’re about even. I’ll be going.” Selina turned and made as if to walk away when the soft voice sounded again.

“You will not.”

“Yeah?” Selina challenged, turning back. “You going to stop me?”

“Well I daresay you would be more than a match for me, even injured, but yes, I am going to stop you. Or, rather, the police are.” Selina stiffened, hating the threat, hating that she couldn’t do anything to stop him even more. Still, something nagged at her.

“If you were going to call the cops, why didn’t you while I was knocked out?” Selina demanded. “Surely that would be easier?”

“I don’t want to call them at all,” Alfred said, looking very slightly offended. Selina didn’t think he could look more than slightly anything. His face seemed to be in a state of perpetual amusement, though whether that be from the fact that he was English or the years in service, she couldn’t say. “You’re my patient and I’m your doctor – or closest thing to – and you need to stay here until you heal. Only if you try to leave will the authorities be notified.” So she was being held captive by an old man with a mean killshot in the house of a spoiled rich kid her employer very much wanted to assassinate. Fantastic.

“And then you’ll just let me go?” Selina said, her eyebrows arching in disbelief. There was no way she was walking out the door without a fight or some sort of catch.

“Well like you said, you saved my boy,” he said evenly, his tone never changing. “The whole of the manor is available to you – I assume that you know your way around. For obvious reasons, your weapons will be returned to you when you leave and not before. Try not to kill my charge so soon after saving his life, yes? I know he can be a…what’s the American term? Pain in the arse.”

“So I’ve got the run of the place, but I can’t leave or you’ll call the cops on me,” Selina repeated, just once more for clarity. “Doesn’t this feel a little _Beauty and the Beast_ to you?”

“As long as you’re not calling me the beast,” he quipped and Selina was so startled that she couldn’t help but laugh. So he could set bones, shoot, and had a sense of humor. Who would have guessed it? “Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind putting that pin back into those bandages. We wouldn’t want them coming undone now would we?” He smiled to himself and ambled down the hallway, no doubt to carry the tray to Wayne.

Alfred was good on his word. Nothing was closed off to her, except for the front door, and the security center, although Selina couldn’t really begrudge him that. It was one thing to have a criminal running loose around his house; it was another thing altogether to have her watching them. The mansion really was beautiful, something she never really appreciated when she’d been casing the place. Enormous and lavish and beautiful. Selina wandered the hallways she’d memorized aimlessly, admiring the tasteful décor. Wayne’s mother had been one hell of an interior decorator.

“People actually live like this,” Selina said to herself, her voice echoing through the spacious halls. They had enough room to house half of the Narrows, servants to bring them food, security and safety and shelter beyond anything that Selina had ever dreamed of as a kid. And now, at least until she got better, it was all hers.

She hated it. She hated every inch of the huge, stupid place. She had known so many people who hadn’t had anywhere to go in the winter, who’d died of hunger and cold, and yet here was the most obnoxious display of wealth she’d ever seen. Any of the crap that lined bookcases and decorated the walls could feed and clothe her people for months. Christ, no wonder the city was so bankrupt when the distribution of wealth was this fucking off-kilter. And worst of all, Selina was a part of it. These people, these residents of White Hill, they were all one of two things: Old money or gang money. Gang money was the worse of the two, for sure. So much worse, because the gangs stayed in power by instilling fear. They kept the poor violent and desperate, and the rich scared enough to keep their mouths shut and look the other way.

And Selina had thrived off of the gang lifestyle, thrived because she was smart and fast and the very, very best at stealing. Taking advantage of her own people by working for Falcone and Gerard and everyone else profiting from their collective poverty and damn bad luck. She’d been jumping through hoops her entire life, just playing the game. Helping the rich get richer and making sure that anyone down and out stayed that way. Perpetuating a system that had been trying to kill her since her mother died. And here was another _fucking game_ for her to play, to appease the rich and the bored. _Look at the criminal, trapped in her cage. We’ll feed her and make her better and make her owe us, and watch her dance in the meanwhile._

That was the worst of it; knowing that she’d come out of this owing Wayne something. Even after she’d risked her life to save his, somehow this backwards world always managed to screw her. Because she’d almost died, and part of her wished that she had died, and since they didn’t call the police, Selina would forever be in their debt. She would always be looking over her shoulder, waiting for them to call her in like a trained dog.

Exactly what Gerard had been doing her whole life.

Selina was so goddamn tired of games.

* * *

 

Selina hid in her room during the day, catching hours of sleep here and there. She tossed around escape plans, but she was still too injured to make a clean getaway, especially if they had the police on speed-dial. She only opened the door for Alfred, to allow him to change her bandages and to make sure that everything was healing properly. He brought her meals as well, but Selina refused them, keeping the door locked. No doubt he had a key, but the old butler never pushed. Her hunger strike was a small rebellion and it would end inevitably, but for the time being it was the only way she could pretend she had any control at all.

Though she kept the doors locked during the day, Selina crept out every night. Not for food, but looking for a way out. Her things had been taken from her, and with them, her phone. She’d promised Ivy an explanation before all of this had happened, and Manny knew that the last place she’d been was Wayne Manor. Nothing good would happen if Ivy found her here, and Ivy was definitely looking. Selina didn’t even want to think about what would happen if Gerard called her in and she didn’t answer. And naturally, all of the phones in the house were fingerprint encrypted, so that she couldn’t make any calls without being in the system. So every night Selina stepped over the covered tray that Alfred had left outside her door and picked through the house, trying to find a phone that was unlocked while staying out of sight of the cameras.

Which was how she stumbled upon the gym. She'd known that it existed, memorized it on the blueprints as a possible escape route, but Selina hadn't imagined that it would be so big. A stupid and naive supposition she realized now - bluebloods did everything to excess, why wouldn't Wayne's home gym be reminiscent of an Olympic gymnastics training facility on steroids. There were high bars, ropes, even something that looked a whole lot like an aerial obstacle course. And that was just what she could see. Selina didn't turn the lights on, still stubbornly adamant about wanting to avoid detection, but the room was enormous and her night vision only allowed so much.

Seized by an insane, reckless impulse, Selina leaped at one of the ropes and started climbing. The rational part of her knew that this was dangerous and stupid. She should be trying to find an untapped phone, not bothering with an obstacle course, not to mention that she was still too injured to be trying something this dangerous.

"Note to self: Don't fall," Selina murmured when she finally hauled herself to the top. She stood precariously on a thin beam, but it was nothing compared to some ledges she'd made use of in the city. And while the height was enough to send a dizzy thrill of adrenaline buzzing through her veins, it was still smaller than the shortest building. But her still-wounded shoulder protested from the abuse and her healing ribs were throbbing. If she fell... She wouldn't fall.

Slowly at first, and then faster, Selina picked her way over the course, ducking over obstacles and jumping from ledges when she couldn't climb between them, and all in the dark. It was more expansive than she'd thought, winding over the ceiling and overlooking the entire gym. There was a boxing ring in the corner and an exit in the back with blue light seeping in from under the door that Selina suspected led to a swimming pool. Unbelievable. Who the hell needed a swimming pool in their house?

She was almost halfway through the obstacle course when the door creaked open and the lights flicked on. Taken off-guard, Selina stumbled, nearly pitching herself off of a beam before she managed to steady herself. Still, she couldn’t help a small noise of panic from escaping before she clamped her teeth together.

“Hello?” Wayne’s voice came from somewhere below her. _Shit_ , Selina thought furiously. “Selina?” She didn’t move, still holding onto the naïve hope that he wouldn’t see her and leave. “How the hell did you even get up there?”

“Christ you're a pain in my ass," Selina griped, stretching so that she could look him in the eye. He'd already seen her. She refused to let him think that she was hiding.

"Says the girl playing in the rafters." So maybe this wasn't part of the obstacle course. Whatever, it was good practice anyhow. "What the hell are you even doing up there anyway?"

"Bored." Selina said, injecting as much casual distain into her voice as possible. "Not much to do when I'm being held against my will."

"Nothing but check all the phones?" Wayne said coolly, a stupid grin on his face. "They're all tapped, by the way, so you can stop. Who are you so desperate to make a call to anyway? Your employer in the Falcone family?" Selina made a face, dropping down to a lower beam to glare at him better. She liked being this high up; for once she was taller than everyone. 

"If you honestly think I'm going to answer any of that, you're dumber than you look."

"I'll trade you," Wayne offered. "Phone call for answers."

"How do you know I won't tell someone where I am?" Wayne smiled wider at that and Selina wanted to smack him.

"Something tells me you don't want anyone to know that you're here." Well, he wasn't wrong. Selina paused for a moment, weighing her options. She didn't want to tell him anything, but she had to get a call out to Ivy. She'd be beside herself by now, certain that Selina was dead, and more importantly, Selina needed to keep her off of the right track. 

"Fine. Phone call first." Selina expected an argument, but Wayne pulled out his cell without question, tossing it to her.

"It's a secure line. Can't be tracked." Wayne added. Selina didn't doubt it but ignored him, dialing Ivy's number. 

"What?" The redhead snapped into the phone on the third ring. Selina felt a pang of guilt in her chest; Ivy sounded like hell.

"V, it’s me." Selina said softly, angling herself away from Wayne as much as she could one-handed.

"Selina." Ivy said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Jesus Christ, Selina what is wrong with you?!" She screeched. "It's been over a week! No call, no note... I would've taken a fucking smoke signal at this point! I thought you were dead!"

"Not dead." Selina promised, cutting into her tirade. 

"Then where the hell are you?" Ivy demanded. "Are you safe? Do you need extraction? I've got new bombs cooked up that could level a skyscraper... Selina please tell me you're okay."

"I'm safe." Selina said evasively. "I'm not hurt and I'll be home soon." Not _as_ hurt, she amended wryly, touching the bandages wrapping her shoulder and chest.

"Where are you? I'm coming to get you."

"V." Selina said, trying to keep calm and not get sucked into Ivy's whirlwind of emotions.

“God damn it, the one time I let you out of my sight you disappear for a week. I should have come with you when you left – you were in such a weird mood – God I am so glad you’re even alive, but come on Selly – ”

“Ivy!” Selina hissed, raising her voice a touch. “I’m fine. I’m out of town, and this is a secure line, so you can’t track it. I’ll keep my promise, just wait till I get home.”

“Swear you’re okay.” Ivy demanded, her voice cracking harshly. “Swear on something important.”

“On my T-Bird and your lipstick, I’m okay,” Selina said, invoking one of Ivy’s oldest inventions. Aptly named Kiss of Death, it had gotten them both out of trouble more than once. “I love you. I’ve gotta go.”

“I didn’t think you loved anyone.” Wayne said when Selina hung up.

“Cute.” She swung herself into a sitting position and dropped the phone back down to him. “One question.” Selina braced herself. She’d opened herself up to anything. Who she was, who she worked for, _why_. None were doors she particularly wanted to open, and somehow Selina knew that if he asked her, she’d tell him the truth.

“So knives and climbing. Want to explain that to me?” Selina breathed a tiny sigh of relief and looked away so that he couldn’t see her smiling.

“That’s two questions, idiot.”


	10. Done

“People are more afraid of knives,” Selina explained from above him. Bruce settled himself against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

“I disagree,” Bruce said immediately, his mother’s scream echoing in his mind along with the impossibly loud bouncing of pearls.

“I don’t care if you agree or not,” Selina cut across him before the memory could take hold. “I can take a gun from you – I _have_ taken a gun from you.” Even without seeing her face, Bruce could see the smile in her voice. “But no one’s going to make a grab for a blade. Besides, blades are easier to conceal, and nobody expects someone my size to be armed.”

“Isn’t your Alleycat persona kind of well-known?” Bruce asked before he could stop himself. There was a beat of silence and then Bruce wheeled backwards as Selina swung upside down, glaring daggers.

“I went by Alleycat when I was twelve,” Selina snapped. “You were going to tell Jeeves my name; I had to come up with something. I mean, look at me," Selina said, using her good arm to swing down and landing neatly on her two feet. "No one expects a girl under five four to be armed." Bruce had never noticed her height, to be honest. There had always been so many other things to pay attention to – the enormous jackets she'd been wearing in he orphanage the first time they'd met, the little black dress from the gala, a knife being held to his throat, her _hair_ – but now that he looked, she was shorter than him by at least six inches and had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes. Something she hated, no doubt.

"Then what happens when you're not armed?" Bruce asked.

“I'm always armed”

“You're not now." Bruce pointed out.

That you know of," she insisted. "And if I'm not armed, I run." Bruce raised a skeptical eyebrow. He hadn't run from her that night in the study. Bruce still couldn't believe that he'd engaged in a bona fide sword-fight. It was like something out of a cartoon, him in a suit and tie with his fencing saber, her in an all-black ensemble, brandishing her dagger and radiating dark confidence. It seemed like running had been the very last thing on her mind. “Believe it or not, standing and fighting is the best way to get yourself killed.”

“You fought me.”

“You didn’t leave me much of a choice,” she replied coolly. “And I knew I could beat you.”

“You did not!” Bruce objected. Selina smiled, just a tiny upturn of her lips, but her eyes lit up. “You did not know that you could beat me.”

“The sword was a surprise,” she conceded. “I didn’t think you’d actually try to fight me.”

“And what if you didn’t think you could win?” Bruce challenged. Selina shrugged and before he could even register that she was moving, she’d perched herself on the beam above him on all fours like a cat. How the hell had she _done_ that? Alfred had told him that he’d fractured one of her ribs and her arm was still in bad shape. How she was still able to lift a spoon, let alone haul herself onto a rafter was beyond him. “That’s where the climbing comes in.”

“You’re a quick study, aren’t you billionaire?”

“So running and stabbing are the only two options?” Bruce asked, ignoring the dig. Selina stood on the beam and started walking, and he sped to keep pace with her. “What happens when you can’t do either?”

“Then I take a beating,” she said finally, after a long silence. Bruce thought of the ugly that still mottled her cheek and jaw and felt a flash of rage burn through his stomach. Had those been the result of just ‘taking a beating?’

“What, so thief extraordinaire Alleycat can’t throw a decent punch?”

“No, not really.”

“Why the hell not?” She’d told him more than once how rough she lived in the Narrows. And Bruce had heard the stories and read the reports. People were jumped every day, killed for food, money, or just at random. Bruce found it hard to believe that she’d made it through her whole life without knowing how to defend herself without a weapon.

“Because I want to live. And sometimes you just have to take it.”

“Bullshit.” Bruce snapped before he could stop himself. He didn’t know what it was about her, but his impulse control seemed to weaken when she was around. “You need to learn hand-to-hand.”

“And who’s going to teach me? You?” Selina challenged, spinning on the beam and crouching on all fours. How she managed it without falling or hurting herself further was beyond him.

“Yeah. Me.”

 

* * *

 

This was the dumbest thing she’d ever agreed to do, and Selina worked for the mob. Not only the mob, but she was a key player in a coup between the two crime families. All of that stupid piling up on her head and she still hadn’t learned. And so, every night for over a week, she’d met Wayne in the gym and let him beat the crap out of her until the early hours of the morning.

“Ow,” she grumbled once she could breathe again. She could take a hit, and had, but she’d never let it happen on _purpose_. “That one hurt.”

“You’re still trying to run away.” Wayne said, extending a hand to help her up.

“Yeah, but it’s the best way not to get hit, which is the goal,” Selina snapped, knocking his hand away and getting to her feet.

“The whole point if to try and fight your way around me. If you’re always looking for a way to run, it makes it easier for me to knock you out.” Wayne swiped the back of his head across his forehead. “Maybe we should stop for the night. Wouldn’t want to get blood all over your new outfit.”

“Not a chance,” Selina said, ignoring the comment about the new clothes. She’d expected to change back into her old, dirty outfit, but Alfred had been supplying her with new clothing, including a new pair of combat boots and fingerless gloves that he’d dubbed “thief chic.” And while Selina was loath to accept any form of charity, the street rat in her cringed at the waste of perfectly good clothing, no matter where it came from. “Come on, billionaire,” she taunted, rewrapping the bandages around her knuckles. Although, it wasn’t like she was throwing many punches anyways; being as small as she was, her best bet to do any real damage was to use her elbows and knees. “What, are you afraid that I’ll win this time?”

“Not a chance,” Wayne said, stepping lightly back into fighting stance.

“How the hell do you know how to fight anyway?” Selina asked, matching Wayne step for step as they began to circle around the ring. “Other rich kids bullying you on the playground?”

“Something like that,” he replied. Selina danced out of the way as Wayne lunged at her, leaping to the opposite side of the ring. “After my parents died, I started picking fights with kids that were bigger and older than me. And after three weeks of split lips and black eyes, Alfred figured that if I was going to be fighting, I might as well win.” He stepped forward and swung again. Selina blocked the attack, feeling a glow of pride before she forced it to the back of her mind.

“He’s full of surprises, your butler,” Selina said, taking a deep breath through her nose before darting forward. Somehow she made it through Wayne’s guard before he could react, landing a solid blow to his ribs before he swung at her again. Selina slid to one knee and jabbed her elbow upward, striking Wayne’s jaw and then hitting him again in the nose. He wheeled backwards, unprepared, and Selina hooked her foot around his. Wayne wobbled and fell flat, and Selina fell with him, not quick enough to jump away in time.

“You’re bleeding,” Selina managed, her face inches above his. Blood was flowing freely from his nose, running into his mouth and down his chin.

“Yeah, you got me pretty good there,” Wayne said, reaching around her to touch the tip of his finger to the blood dripping down his face. Selina blinked, suddenly very aware that she was on top of him and that he was staring at her. Throwing off his arm, Selina surged to her feet, putting as much distance between then as she could within the confines of the ring. “I think you broke my nose.” Red droplets stood out against the starched white of his shirt and Wayne touched the bridge of his nose, wincing. “Yeah, definitely broke it.”

“Shit, really?” Selina said, coming closer. “I didn’t think I hit you that hard. Here,” she said, unwrapping her knuckles and handing him the bandages. “Use these to stop the bleeding and tilt your head up.”

"Have you done this before?” Wayne asked, doing as she’d said without argument for once.

“Fixed a broken nose? Yeah,” Selina said, thinking back to when Ivy had come home bleeding and she’d had to take care of her. “Do you have ice anywhere?”

“In the freezer over there,” Wayne said, gesturing.

“Keep pressure on that,” Selina ordered, vaulting out of the ring and grabbing the ice. “Don’t move.”

“Yes ma’am,” Wayne said.

“What are you doing?” Selina demanded, stopping short when she turned to see Wayne stripping off his shirt.

“You’re not the one who’ll have to deal with Alfred if I ruin another shirt. He might up and quit this time and then I’ll have to do my own laundry.” Selina couldn’t help the scowl that twisted her features. “That was a joke,” Wayne said, pressing the ice against his nose. “I was joking. I promise I can do my own laundry.”

“You need to get your nose set or it’ll heal crooked,” Selina said, changing the subject and determinedly avoiding eye contact.

“Can you do it?”

"You should go to the hospital.”

“Bruce Wayne showing up covered in blood at three in the morning? People are going to ask questions. It’ll just be easier to do it here.” Selina wanted to tell him to go get Alfred – if the old man could set bones, he could reset a nose. “Please.”

“Fine,” Selina grumbled. Wayne took the ice off of his face, letting it hang. Selina stood as far away as she could manage, pressing her hands on each side of his nose. “On the count of three, okay?” One – ” Selina jerked her hands to the right, forcing his nose back into place. Wayne swore violently, whirling away from her and yelling in pain. “Come on, don’t be a baby.”

“You said three,” Wayne protested.

“I lied. Put the ice on it and quit whining. It doesn’t hurt that badly.

“You try it.”

“Please,” Selina said offhandedly. “I’ve had worse.” Wayne stilled, turning to look to her, his eyes tight.

“I noticed,” he said darkly. Selina narrowed her eyes and suddenly his hand was on her face, his thumb running over a healing bruise on her jaw. “The man that you’re afraid of, did he do this to you?” Selina didn’t respond, too busy trying to reorder her suddenly frantic mind. The bruise – which hadn’t hurt in over a week – was tingling under his touch, and her thoughts scattered in every direction.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Alfred demanded, throwing the door open with a _bang_. Somehow he still was impeccably dressed, despite obviously being roused in the middle of the night. Selina shook herself, jumping away from Wayne like she’d been electrocuted.

“I broke his nose,” Selina said cavalierly. “Fixed it though.”

“And _what_ did you do to your shirt?” Alfred asked, nearly shouting, and taking the broken nose in stride. Selina had to appreciate his priorities. “Master Wayne, I am at my wit’s end. You pick that up and _pray_ that the blood comes out, or we will have words, young man.”

“Good luck with that, Master Wayne,” Selina said, careful not to touch him as she ducked out of the ring.

“Can I get you anything to eat?” Alfred asked politely. “It’s early, but – ”

“You don’t know me, but if there’s food, I’ll eat it.” Selina said. “Lead the way.” Anything to get away from Wayne.

Besides, Selina liked the kitchen. The Mansion had two, actually. One – the big one that Selina had used to stash her stuff after walking in the front door – was only used for caterers and big events. The other was small and homey, almost like the kitchen of an Italian restaurant that Selina would steal from when things in the Narrows were getting particularly lean. The walls were painted yellow, and covered with paintings of landscapes from around the world. And despite several dining rooms, there was a breakfast bar and a small table nestled in a corner by the window. In the entire manor, it was the only room that Selina didn’t actually hate. Maybe because it looked like a kitchen in a real house, as opposed to something out of _Bluebloods Monthly_. Besides, it was actually stocked, as opposed to the other one, which was completely empty. Selina had checked in the first couple of days, after choosing to go hungry had gotten old.

"Whatcha making?" Selina asked Alfred, who'd started taking ingredients out of cabinets and the fridge.

"Well it is morning, so I was thinking of a little three am breakfast. How do omelets sound?"

“Perfect." Selina said eagerly, her stomach growling its assent. She'd learned very early not to be picky. Even when her mother was alive, there hadn't been much to eat, and Selina had been grateful for anything that came into the house.

“Dice those up for me, would you?" Alfred said, handing her a knife, handle-first. Selina raised an eyebrow. She had already injured one member of the house tonight. How did he know that she wouldn't take the knife and run? "I've never liked an audience when I cook," he said by way of explanation. "My policy is to put anyone in my kitchen to work. I thought this task would suit you, given your proclivity for sharp objects.”

“Your kitchen?" Selina asked, taking the knife. Alfred passed her a cutting board and a bowl if vegetables.

“Make no mistake, despite any honorifics to the contrary, I am the master of this kitchen." Selina could believe it. "Where exactly did you learn to set noses, Miss?" He asked her after s few minutes of companionable silence.

“Oh God don't call me that," Selina said, cringing at the formality and ignoring the question entirely. She'd never been called "Miss" in her life.

“Well I don't know your real name and calling you Alleycat would be terribly awkward for the both of us." Selina couldn't disagree. There was a reason she'd tried to bury that old nickname. It had seemed apropos when she was young, but the older she became the more embarrassed she was to be known by it.

“It's Selina," she said softly after a while. "My name is Selina." It was a step, telling him her real name, but the old butler had very literally had her under his thumb for over a week now. If he was going to call the cops, he'd have done it and even so, it wasn't like there was any record of her after she was ten years old.

“Pleasure to officially make your acquaintance, Selina." Alfred said, managing a little bow despite juggling a frypan and a bowl full of whipped eggs. "Under undeniably regrettable circumstances, but a pleasure nonetheless.”

“Believe it or not, this isn't the worst place I've been held against my will," Selina quipped, dumping her vegetables into the pan with the eggs.

"This happens to you often then?" Selina bit her lip, realizing what she'd said. She didn't know it was about the manor that was making her give up so much information. She stayed silent, fiddling with the knife in her hand. "Selina, if I may. What is a reaper?”

"That's a dangerous question," she replied softly, setting the knife down very cautiously. "How do you know that word Alfred?”

"Money talks," he replied in measured tones. Of course it did. Money ruled Gotham and everyone in it. And it shouldn’t have surprised her that Alfred had looked into the criminal under his roof.

“Money should stay the hell out of my business,” she said sharply. “What do you want from me?”

“It’s just a question.”

“No it’s not. You don’t know anything about me; you don’t know what I’ve done, or what I’m capable of – ”

“I know that you saved Bruce,” Alfred said quietly, cutting right through her tirade. “And I know that you burglarized his mansion before. Coming back here was incredibly dangerous, you could have been killed, I could have called the authorities, and yet you came anyway. What I want to know is why a thief would bother.”

“Because he already owns me!” Selina burst out before reason could kick in and shut her up. “He doesn’t get anyone else. He doesn’t get to _take anyone else away_.” Hot tears crowded in the corners of her eyes and Selina spun out of the kitchen before they could fall.

“Selina – ” Wayne said, appearing in the hall and catching hold of her wrist. His eyes were wide with alarm, studying her like they always did. “Hey are you alright?”

“Don’t touch me!” she hissed, ripping her hand away. “I’m done! I’m done with you, and your stupid mansion, and whatever sick game you and the old man are playing by keeping me here. I don’t care anymore. Let him call the cops on me, I’m leaving. I can’t stay in this _fucking_ place anymore. Next time an assassin’s coming to kill you, you’re dead, because I am _not_ coming to rescue you. You’re on your own. I am _done_.” Selina blew past him, leaving Wayne looking hurt and confused behind him and her heart stuttered a little.

She didn’t care – she wouldn’t allow herself to care. She was leaving.


	11. Home Again

Ivy was pissed. Understandably, but still. Selina had seen Ivy angry before, but never like this and never directed at her.

“Stupid, stupid, moronic, boneheaded, so _fucking_ stupid – ” Ivy raged, storming around her loft like a hurricane. She’d long since given up living at the halfway house and had ditched her parole officer, going deep underground. Something Selina was grateful for. She wasn’t ready to go home, not yet. Too many people knew where she lived, and the old apartment just didn’t feel safe anymore.

“V, don’t be mad,” Selina said softly.

“Mad?” Ivy shrieked, whirling on her. Her hair swirled around her face in a violent red tornado and her eyes flashed. “ _Mad?_ You think I’m _mad_? I thought you were _dead_ , Sel. Dead. Shot in the head, six feet under, dumped in the river, dead. And then, out of nowhere, I get a call. A call on a secure line, so I can’t come and get you. Because you’re my best friend in the world, and I thought you were dead, so _of fucking course I would want to come and get you_. But no, everything’s fine, you say. You’re just out of town, and everything’s _just fine_. And now you have the audacity to tell me not to be mad?” Selina winced, the words ringing true. When she laid it all out like that, it really did sound bad.

“I’m sorry,” she said lamely.

“Oh you’re sorry. _That_ makes everything better,” Ivy snarled.

“Ivy, I – ”

“No!” Ivy cut her off, clearly not ready to hear an explanation. “You don’t get to waltz in here and magically make it better.”

“I’m not trying to make it better – ”

“I thought you were dead!” Ivy said again and for the first time Selina saw tears shining in her eyes. “You do _not_ get to die on me, Sel. You’re not allowed to die and leave me here without you.” Selina moved towards her, arms outstretched, but Ivy knocked her hands away. “Don’t hug me, I’m mad at you. Explain. Where did you go?”

“I was hiding,” Selina lied, feeling guilt well in her heart. She’d already decided that Ivy couldn’t know about Wayne. There was too much to explain there and Selina still didn’t know why she’d even bothered saving him in the first place. “Gerard is double-crossing Falcone. I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but I walked in on him making a deal with Oswald Cobblepot.”

“What.” Ivy deadpanned, her eyes gong wide. “You’ve seen the Penguin? I thought he was just a ghost story.”

“He’s real.” A real, hobbling, umbrella-toting sociopath. “And now they own me, both of them. I’m their pet reaper, and eventually one of them with decide that I know too much and then I’ll be dead for good this time.”

“Holy shit, Sel.”

“I know. And I know I should have told you but I didn’t want you getting caught in the crosshairs, especially when you just got out of prison.”

“You’ve known about this since _before_ I got out of Blackgate and you didn’t tell me?” Selina winced. Apparently whatever had turned her into an open book at the Wayne mansion hadn’t worn off yet. “God dammit sometimes you really are a moron. You should have said something sooner.”

“I know.”

“Then what was the phone call?” Ivy prompted.

“Papi called me. Gerard was pissed and he thought I could help. And Gerard…he beat the hell out of me. I thought he was going to kill me. So I ran.” Selina brushed her fingers over the bruise on her jaw, her pulse jumping at the memory of Wayne’s hand there.

“Jesus,” Ivy said after a long silence. “You’re really screwed, aren’t you?”

“Basically.” Ivy was quiet for a moment longer before she jumped to her feet, and Selina was reminded of how terrifying her friend could be.

“Not allowed,” she said fiercely. “They’re not allowed to take you. We’re going to get you through this, Sel, you and me. Together, like we always do.” She must not have looked convinced because Ivy sat down again. “Look. Between the two of us, we _will_ keep you alive. We’re the two smartest people in this city. And the two smartest people in the city don’t get pushed around by a sniveling prick like Gerard. I mean seriously, what the hell is _up_ with the whole genteel act he’s got going on?” Selina smiled, happy to let her rant for a while. She was home. She was home and she was with Ivy and she was safe. For now.

It didn’t take long for her mind to wander. Wayne hadn’t stopped her from leaving, he hadn’t even tried. Selina listened absently to Ivy, her body acting on auto-pilot as her mind spun back to escaping the mansion. No one called the police. Alfred was even waiting for her at the door with a backpack full of clean clothes. She sifted through it on the bus, wary of tracking devices, but it had seemed clean. Even so, Selina had stashed it in her workshop before coming to Ivy’s. She didn’t want to think about Alfred, or the mansion, or _Wayne_. She didn’t want to think about how worried he’d seemed, or how wounded he had looked when she’d run away from him. _I warned him_ , Selina thought darkly. All she ever did was run away. Why the hell did he ever think that she would stay with him? That she would _want_ to stay with him? Selina shook her head slightly, trying to dislodge the memories and the pang of guilt in her chest. She should have never stayed that long.

“Nice wrappings,” Ivy commented the next morning, nodding towards the white cloth binding Selina’s hands and wrists. “You take boxing lessons while you were gone, babe?” _Something like that_ , Selina thought wryly. “Coffee?” Ivy asked, pushing the mug across the table.

“What did you put in it?” Selina asked, smiling at Ivy’s look of indignation.

“The lack of faith hurts me. Deeply.” Selina rolled her eyes, bringing the cup to her lips.

“So I’m going to visit Gerard today,” Selina mumbled into her coffee. Ivy raised a vibrantly red eyebrow.

“You’re going to do what now?”

“I’ve got to, or he’s going to come looking for me.” It was a miracle that he hadn’t called her in during her mysterious absence. Then again, he’d beat the living shit out of her and was probably busy trying to figure out where his assassin had gone to and why he hadn’t been able to kill Wayne. Selina still didn’t know what Alfred had done with the body, and now that she thought about it, she really didn’t want to. Ignorance being bliss and all that.

“I’m coming with you.”

“No,” Selina said sharply. “He already thinks that I’ve told you everything and if you show up with me, it’s just going to set him off.” And Selina would really like to keep Gerard as calm as possible, lest they repeat their last encounter.

“The last time you went there, he almost killed you. I’m coming.”

“The last time he was already mad and I got in the way.” Selina winced as Ivy threw up her hands in exasperation. Selina was defending him and they both knew it, but she had no other options. Gerard and the Penguin owned her, and if she stayed away for too much longer, they’d come looking. She would not allow Ivy and the St. Bart’s kids to get caught in the crossfire. “Ivy, I know what I’m doing – ”

“Yeah? Because Miss I Know What I’m Doing got herself stuck in the middle of a gang war and almost beaten to death before vanishing off the grid for half a month. Maybe if you hadn’t been such a _fucking – ”_ Her phone rang in mid-rant and Selina exhaled in relief. Saved by the bell. “Hi Harley,” Ivy said, her whole demeanor suddenly changing, softening. Selina bolted down the rest of the coffee, taking advantage of her friend’s momentary distraction and grabbed her bag, heading for the door.

“Tell the girlfriend I say hi,” Selina whispered. Ivy’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to be fine, I’ll be back in an hour, I’ll text you when I’m there.”

 “I’m going to kill you,” Ivy hissed, covering the receiver with her hand.

“Love you too. Bye!” Selina waved and ducked out the door, flipping her hood over her hair. She would be lying if she said that she wasn’t nervous to see Gerard again. After all, their last encounter had left her bleeding on the street with her head almost bashed in. Selina texted Ivy when she reached the bar.

_Get home safe_. Ivy typed back. Selina pocketed her phone and pushed inside the bar, breathing through her nose to steady her heart rate.

"Papi,” Selina said coolly.

 “ _Hola_ Sel,” Papi said, sounding almost as nervous as Selina felt. “ _Que pasa_?”

“Fine. Gerard here?” Papi nodded, going into the back to get the gangster.

“Selina, darling!” Gerard burst through the door, grinning broadly. He looked like something out of a bad mobster movie wearing a swanky old-fashioned suit jacket and fedora. “So good to see you, just wonderful. You’re looking well.”

“You mean since last time you saw me?” Selina said pointedly before she could stop herself. God dammit she really needed to get her mouth under control.

“That was regrettable,” Gerard said primly, dusting something microscopic off of his shoulder. “You do know my temper, love.” That she did. “And your face looks to be just about healed.” Selina had to strain to keep the pleasant smile on her face. That was it? Oh, it didn’t _look_ like he’d beat the hell out of her, so no harm no foul? Crazy, psychotic son of a bitch. “Although I think I like your hair better the old way,” Gerard said as an afterthought. Selina wanted to scream. The ‘new way’ was letting it hang over the side of her face, the wavy dirty-blonde curtain covering the last of the bruises and disguising the ugly scar over her eye. Selina forced herself not to flinch as he reached for her, drawing her hair away from her face. “That’s better.” There was a beat of silence and Selina held her breath until he released her.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, careful to keep her voice even despite her heart hammering against her ribs. “You know that I’m no good at this girly stuff.”

“No matter,” Gerard said with a sniff. “If you do your job, no one will look at you anyway. Oh, and before I forget, I have been looking for your orphan. Tommy Vasquez.” Selina started at Tommy’s name. With everything that had happened, she’d nearly forgotten about him.

“You found him?”

“Not quite. But I’ve got feelers out. If he’s in the city, I’ll find him.” Gerard took Selina’s hand in what might have been a parental gesture if he wasn’t insane and hadn’t tried to kill her two weeks earlier. “Anything for my favorite reaper. You’ll be finding significant bonus in your account in the next few days as well.”

“What for?” Selina said, feeling sick. Her stomach was empty, but even so it roiled.

“Just a little gift to show you that I care.” Gerard said, sounding for all the world like a normal boss giving a run-of-the-mill Christmas bonus. She didn’t want his money, not when she hadn’t earned it. It was just another weight on her chest, another brand that proved that she was bought and paid for.

“You are too good to me,” she said, ducking her head and hoping it passed for gratitude.

"You’re like a daughter to me, lovely Selina. You know that.” He smiled, preening, before pulling a jacket on. “I must be going. My intrepid business partner is waiting and he is not a patient man. Oh!” Gerard said, halfway out the door. “Do give my regards to Ivy. I think she’ll be in my employ quite soon.” With a little wave, he was gone. Selina stood frozen for a moment, his words crashing around her like blows. Crazy or not, Selina had never been more at his mercy. The promises to find Tommy, the money, the mention of Ivy… everything had been to prove that he owned her: ‘Do what I say and I’ll give you presents. Disobey me and I’ll bash your face in.’ Selina shuddered, cold despite the heat pumping into the bar.

“What the hell are you into, Sel?” Papi asked after a long, awkward silence.

“I can handle it.” Selina responded quickly, lying though her teeth.

“Maybe you should get out of town, _chica_. Lay low for a while. There’s a lot of heat on you right now.”

“I’m fine, Papi,” Selina insisted. “Don’t worry about me. And don’t let him hear you talking like that.” Papi nodded, understanding. Gerard did not suffer traitors, or tolerate anyone he even suspected of being disloyal. “ _Adios_ , I’ll see you.”

“Take care of yourself.” Selina let the door slam behind her. She was trying to take care of herself, but survival was quickly becoming a game that she didn’t know how to play anymore.

* * *

 

Selina didn’t go back to Ivy’s right away; she was too agitated and another shouting match was the last thing she needed. Instead she looped back towards the Narrows on foot, heading back towards her apartment.

Miraculously, no one bothered her, despite the fact that she was alone, on foot, presenting an easy target. Part of her, a small, insane part, almost wanted to be jumped – she needed to move, she needed to _fight_ , anything to rid herself of the ice-water crawling through her veins. Everything seemed sluggish and slow, the world filtering through a haze of anxiety and fear. Had it always been like this? Had the respite of Wayne Manor left her vulnerable to the shit-show her life had become? Or was it all finally catching up to her? Selina didn’t know, but there wasn’t anything to do about it. She had forfeited her life the second she’d walked in on Gerard and Oswald Cobblepot. Now she had to deal with the consequences, and accept that there were things she just couldn’t control.

She _could_ control her home address. Selina had needed to move for a long time; she’d been in the same place for over a year. It was time to go, long past time to go, in fact. The door to her apartment gave easily when she turned the key. There wasn’t much inside, never had been. Selina hadn’t accumulated much clutter and all of the clothes in her closet could easily be fit into a large backpack. Without thinking, she switched on the TV, remembering all the nights she’d fallen asleep on the couch, letting the voices and flickering lights lull her into unconsciousness. She still had a hard time sleeping without it on. Maybe that was why she hadn’t slept much at the Manor. Or maybe sleeping in enemy territory was against every instinct she had. Regardless, it had been weeks since she’d gotten a decent night’s sleep.

Cracking her knuckles, Selina swept her hair up into a messy bun, pulled on a pair of gloves, and got to work. She packed everything she couldn’t leave behind and got rid of the rest. As two news anchors prattled on about the GCPD’s war on organized crime, Selina destroyed anything in the apartment that could lead back to her. She ripped up bank notes, searched every nook and cranny for personal items (there weren’t any), and wiped her prints off of every surface in the place. It took hours but finally she finished, and Selina collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. Reaching with gloved fingers, she turned the lamp off, and for the first time in weeks, slept.

Selina woke to the phone ringing, shaking her out of a nightmare full of gunfire and blood and dark eyes. She clumsily reached for the burner in her jacket pocket, but it was silent. Cursing, she stumbled to her feet, searching for the source. After a few frustrated seconds, Selina remembered the apartment phone. The number had come with the place and she never had it disconnected. To her knowledge, it had never rung before. Selina reached for the receiver, flicking the lights on. The sun had gone down while she was sleeping, and Ivy was going to kill her for not coming back right away.

“Hello?” Selina mumbled, unable to banish the sleepy hum in her voice.

“Sel-Selina?” It took Selina only a moment to recognize the voice, and suddenly she wasn’t tired anymore.

“Wayne?” she managed through her shock. How the hell had he gotten this number and _why the hell was he calling her_? “Jesus Christ what is _wrong_ with you? Don’t call me again.”

“Please don’t hang up,” Wayne said, and there was something in his voice that stopped her. Panic. “Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong with me. I…I can’t breathe.”


	12. Nightmares

It had all started with a dream. Bruce hadn’t known that it was a dream at first – he hadn’t even known that he was asleep at first. He had been poring over the files of his parents’ case, an old habit he’d formed over the years. He had read the words and studied the pictures until he had them memorized, and reading it over and over had become something like a security blanket. Reading the gory details of his parents’ case helped him fall asleep. Bruce laid his head on the mahogany desk and wondered when his life had turned into this. Obsessing over his parents’ case was one thing, but inserting himself into the police’s anti-organized-crime taskforce, tracking down Selina Kyle, the assassin…all of it was finally catching up to him.

_Bruce was running. He knew that the assassin was in the house but he didn’t know where. He just knew that he had to get away and now. He was almost to his father’s old office – he could barricade himself inside and call the police. Bruce was so intent on his destination that he didn’t notice the body until he’d tripped over it. He sprawled, landing hard on his hands and knees in something foul-smelling and sticky. A mop of dirty-blonde hair obscured her face, but Bruce recognized her instantly._

_"Selina?” Bruce whispered, his voice coming out cracked and hoarse. She didn’t respond and Bruce was struck by how small she looked, curled in on herself like a doll. “Shit, Selina, you have to get up. We need to get out of here.” Bruce swept her hair out of her face, snatching his hand away when felt how cold her skin was. There was a bullet hole in the pale skin of her forehead leaking blood that tracked down the side of her face. Her eyes, usually so vibrantly green, were dull for the first time, and wet with unshed tears._

_“Traitor bitch had it coming,” a deep voice said above him and then Bruce was staring down the barrel of a gun. There was a flash of light –_

Bruce woke with a start, scattering the files everywhere. He was up and running before he could think, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Alfred, where was Alfred? It took Bruce a moment to remember that Alfred was out refilling his prescription for sleep meds. Bruce breathed a tiny sigh of relief. It was better that he wasn’t here, the assassin – the assassin was dead. Alfred had killed him. Bruce skidded to a stop, reality finally filtering back. The assassin was gone, and so was Selina. She wasn’t dead, she’d left two days ago after screaming at him. Bruce still didn’t know what Alfred had said to set her off, but it didn’t matter. She was gone and it had just been a nightmare. Bruce waited for his breathing to regulate and his heart to calm down, but the relief never came. His breath was coming in short gasps and chest hurt from how hard his heart was beating.

“Shit,” he exhaled, trying to calm himself down. Something was wrong with him. What the _hell_ was wrong with him? Bruce fell against the wall, his knees giving out, and frantically grabbed for the phone in his pocket. “Pick up,” Bruce breathed into the receiver. “Pick up pick up pick up.” Bruce swore when Alfred’s cheerful voice told him to leave a message at the beep. In a moment of desperation, Bruce dialed the only other number he could think of.

“Hello?” Bruce could have cried with relief, but he didn’t think he could manage it. Selina’s voice was soft and far more vulnerable than he’d ever heard it. It was a long shot, calling this number, but it was the only connection he had to her – the landline that came with her apartment.

“Selina?” he gasped, the word coming out reedy and thin. He couldn’t stop thinking about the assassin, seeing the man’s face floating above his own. He couldn’t stop picturing the assassin strangling the life out of Selina right in front of him, or imagining her immobile body laid out on the ground in front of him.

“Wayne?” she snapped. “Jesus Christ what is _wrong_ with you? Don’t call me again.” Bruce panicked, his heart giving a painful squeeze.

“Please don’t hang up.” Bruce whispered. The words were becoming harder and harder to come by. “Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong with me. I…I can’t breathe.” There was a pause and for a moment he was certain that she’d hung up on him.

“Wayne,” she said softly. “Tell me what you’re seeing.”

“He’s here, he’s back, the assassin, the one that tried to kill me. I – I know he’s not real but I keep _seeing_ him.” He didn’t mention that he kept seeing her dead body appearing in front of his eyes.

“Wayne,” Selina said, completely calm. “You’re having a panic attack.”

“You don’t think I don’t know that?” Bruce snapped, trying to inhale through his mouth but somehow unable to manage it.

“Do not yell at me,” she said coolly, clinically. “And do what I tell you. Breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth. He’s not there anymore. Your butler shot him, remember?” Bruce noticed that she didn’t mention Alfred by name. Still stinging over whatever he’d had said to her in the kitchen. “You’re safe. Count your breaths with me, okay? Inhale, one two three four; exhale, one to three four. You’re safe. Say it.”

“I’m safe.”

“Now breathe. Do it, Wayne.” Bruce inhaled for four seconds, and then exhaled, counting with her over the phone.

“Why don’t you ever call me my name?” Bruce said shakily, feeling his breathing start to even out. “You always call me Wayne, you never call me my name.”

“Some of us don’t have last names that matter, billionaire,” Selina said after moment’s pause. “Don’t be greedy. Breathe again. Inhale, exhale. Do it with me.”

“How do you know how to do this?” he asked after breathing through his nose for several minutes, following her instructions. His heart was slowing down and he could think clearly for the first time since the attack started.

“You have PTSD-induced panic attacks. I know a little something about that.”

“What happened to you?”

“Dangerous question.” She paused and for a second time Bruce thought that she might have hung up. “Same thing that happened to you. My mom died. Violently and in front of me when I was eight.” Bruce started. She’d lost her mom even before he’d lost both of his parents.

“I’m so sorry,” he said lamely.

“I got over them a long time ago. I suggest you do the same because I’m disconnecting this number. Don’t call me again.” This time she did hang up and all Bruce could hear was the sound of static on the end of the line.

 

* * *

 

Selina woke up screaming, bolting upright. Within seconds, warm hands were on her shoulders, pushing her back down.

“Lina, you’re okay.” Selina fought for a moment, the nightmare still clinging to her consciousness. “Selina!” Selina blinked, reality coming into focus. Ivy’s face was hovering over hers, hazel eyes wide and worried.

“Ivy,” she breathed. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“What the hell are you dreaming about?” Ivy asked for what had to be the hundredth time. Selina had been crashing at her place for over a week now, and she’d barely made it through one night without screaming bloody murder. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you’re really starting to freak me out here.”

“My mom,” Selina whispered. It wasn’t totally a lie. Ever since Wayne’s panicked phone call, Selina had been thinking more and more about her mother’s death. She hadn’t dwelled on it in years, but now it was all she could think about. Well, that and the assassin that had almost killed her twice over. Her dreams were filled with Newman’s face, her mother’s screams, and Wayne. Wayne gasping for air as his body betrayed him to panic. Selina had never been a deep sleeper – years of living on her own had deprived her of the safety to rest soundly – but this was something else. She was exhausted, running on fumes that weren’t going to sustain her for much longer.

“Oh Jesus, Sel, I didn’t know.”

"It’s okay,” Selina whispered, not meaning it at all. She was falling apart. She couldn’t sleep, she wasn’t eating…She couldn’t pickpocket a ten year old like this, let alone pull off any kind of job. If Gerard called her in she was screwed.

“I’m sleeping in here tonight.” Ivy declared, throwing back the covers and snuggling close. “Just think of me as your friendly neighborhood dreamcatcher. I’ll scare the nightmares away because I’m a bigger bitch than they are.”

“You’re not a bitch,” Selina said, closing her eyes.

“You’re a shit liar when you’re overtired. Go to sleep,” Ivy said, kissing her forehead. Selina closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep soundly.

_She couldn’t move. She couldn’t move because there was a hand crushing her windpipe, making it impossible to breathe. For a second Selina met Newman’s eyes before his face melted, reconfiguring into Wayne’s._

_"You’ve had this coming a long time,” he said, his lip curled in a vicious sneer. His eyes were harder than she’d ever seen them as he pressed a gun against her stomach and fired. Selina blinked and the scene shifted. Suddenly she wasn’t the one bleeding. It was her mother._

_“Mom,” Selina gasped, crawling over to Maria Kyle’s mangled body, eight years old again and terrified. She’d been hiding in the closet like she’d been told, but she had seen everything through the slats in the door. “Mom, you’re going to be okay, you’re going to be okay.”_

_"Selina…” her mother ground out. Blood flowed freely from a gaping knife wound in her side. “I love you so much, you know that right?”_

_"You’re going to be okay,” Selina said again, whispering the words like saying them over and over again would sew up the hole in Maria’s flesh. “Mom, stay with me, please mom, help is coming, please stay.” Her mother reached a blood-soaked hand, cupping Selina’s face._

_“You stay safe, Selina. I love you.” Her eyes fluttered and then closed for good._

_“Mom?” Selina said, her voice breaking. “Mom!” There was a single, shuddering breath and Selina knew in that moment that her mother was dead. “Mom, come back!_ Mommy _!” She was still screaming when police burst into the apartment and tore her away. The bloody handprint was the last thing Selina had of her mother’s._

She woke with a start, clapping her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming and waking Ivy. Slowly, she climbed out of the bed, her heart racing, eyes stinging from tears she’d shed in the dream. Padding into the kitchen, Selina gripped the sides of the granite counter and laid her head down on the countertop. This was going to kill her. She hadn’t had a nightmare about her mom in _years_ , and all of a sudden…

Wayne. Selina swore, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. The dreams started when she’d gotten back from his _goddamn_ mansion, and they’d never been about her mother until she’d told him about her. This was his fault. At this point, she wasn’t surprised.

“Idiot,” she growled into the phone after dialing. She’d uncovered the number after doing reconnaissance for the gala heist. Back when things were simple. Simpler.

“Hello?” He didn’t sound nearly asleep enough for four in the morning. That was her first thought. Her second was that his voice had the same wearied edge that hers had taken on in the last few days. “Is this some kind of prank call? Who is this?”

“It’s me,” Selina said, all of the anger draining out of her in an instant. “I had a nightmare. I’ve been having nightmares, and I didn’t know who else to call.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter than normal, but I wanted to get it up quickly for you all, and this is very important for chapters to come. As always, thank you all for your support and feedback is always appreciated!


	13. The First

"What do you want me to do about it?" Bruce snapped, his voice edged with exhaustion.

"I don't know, but they started after you and the old man kidnapped me." Selina complained, hating that she'd stooped to call him. What was _wrong_ with her?

"Are you seriously blaming me? How did you even get my number?"

"Blaming you? For having nightmares about the assassin who tried to kill _you_ , and nearly killed me? Yeah, I do blame you." She didn't even bother answering the second question. She'd robbed him blind while there were hundreds of witnesses around to watch. Did he think that there was no planning involved? Of course she knew his number.

"Well if we're assigning blame, you're the one with ties to the crime family that sent the goddamn assassin."

"How the hell do you know that?"

"You did your homework on me." Bruce said curtly by way of answer. Selina glowered silently. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know why she'd even bothered calling, and now she just felt ridiculous. Calling the prince of Gotham because she was having bad dreams. It didn't get more pathetic than that. "Is that all? You called me to blame me for your nightmares?" Selina didn't answer, still seething with embarrassment. "I'm going to tell you what you told me. Don't call me again." He hung up without another word and Selina was left listening to the dial tone for a moment before she hurled it at the wall. She crumpled, sliding down the wall into a heap and putting her head against her knees. God, she was tired.

Ivy found her like that a few hours later, curled up against the wall, half-asleep. Selina startled awake, feeling the footsteps vibrating through the floor.

"Babe, you're really starting to worry me," Ivy said, sitting beside her. "You look like hell. Please let me give you something."

"No, V," Selina insisted. "I'm okay."

"You're not. You've been weird ever since you got home. Bad dreams, night terrors…have you gotten four solid hours of sleep since you've been back?"

"Right now the record stands at three and a half," Selina said, taking a brave stab at humor. Ivy wasn't impressed. "And you won't have to worry about me for much longer. I'll be gone soon, Leo found me a place."

"Fan-fucking-tastic, now you can scream through the night in your very own apartment. Do you really think I'm letting you off the hook that easy?"

"Hoping." Selina said flatly. "The word is hoping. You don't have to babysit me, I'm going to be fine, really." _When_ she would be fine was another question entirely. If she didn't get a solid night's sleep soon she was going to keel over.

"Fine my ass," Ivy grumbled, but stood nonetheless. "Come on," she said, offering Selina a hand up. "If you're running on empty, you might as well eat."

"And coffee?" Selina added hopefully. "Really, really strong coffee."

"Needy, needy," Ivy said, pulling Selina to her feet and laughing. "Yes, coffee." Selina helped Ivy make breakfast, drinking enough concentrated caffeine to energize a bull elephant. Somewhere along the line Ivy put on music and they danced around the kitchen, flicking one-another with pancake batter and singing along off-key, as if they were normal teenagers for once. Selina was sitting on the counter eating a misshapen pancake with her hands when a blonde woman walked in, a backpack slung over her shoulder.

"Ivy, hi, sorry to barge in but I have an enormous test in three hours and I need whatever that tea is that you made for me…" the woman stopped short, seeing Selina on the counter. It took Selina several long seconds to understand the horror and disappointment dawning on her face.

"Hi," Selina said, swallowing the last of her pancake and extending a hand. "I'm Selina. You must be Harvey…Ivy's told me so much about you." Selina gave Ivy a sharp look. _Step in you moron._

"Uh, Harvey, this is Selina…" Ivy stammered. "But she just told you that, um – "

"For the third time, I'm Selina. Childhood friend" she cut in, pointing to herself. "I'm between apartments for the moment, so V's been helping me out." It took a moment, but Harley finally smiled, shaking Selina's hand.

"It's so nice to meet you! Why are you moving? Just need a change of scenery?" she asked, her voice heavy with relief.

"Infestation," Selina said. "Don't know what it was, but all sorts of vermin knew how to get in to the old place." Ivy choked on her coffee and Harvey gave her a strange look.

"Can I get you some breakfast?" Ivy said quickly.

"I don't think I can eat," Harley admitted.

"Right, big test today. I'll get you that tea."

"Yeah, the big test that basically dictates my entire future, and if I fail then the last four years have been for _nothing…_ " She trailed off, looking embarrassed. "I'm rambling. I do that sometimes, when I'm nervous. I ramble."

"It's cute," Ivy said, pouring water into the kettle on the stove. Selina hadn't even known that Ivy had a kettle. When had she gone domestic? "Harley's applying for a PhD program, along with med school."

"Holy shit, really?" Selina said, impressed. Harley's blush deepened but she smiled nonetheless. "That's insane."

"Yeah, it's a little crazy, but that's kind of the idea. I want to get my doctorate in abnormal psychology, and eventually work in Arkham." Selina suppressed a shudder at the mention of the old asylum. She'd been born in Gotham and raised horror stories of what happened to inmates at Arkham. Selina was one of the many who thought that it never should have been reopened. She was searching for something to say when her phone rang, still on the floor from her temper tantrum a few hours before.

"Speaking of crazy," Selina muttered darkly, snatching the phone and putting it to her ear. "Hello."

"Darling girl, how good it is to hear your voice." Gerard trilled, sickly-sweet as ever.

"What've you got for me?"  
"Not over the phone. I'll text you the address. Come down and we'll have a little chat." Selina's blood went cold and she struggled to keep her face neutral.

"On my way." She hung up without another word. "I've got to go."

"Everything okay?" Ivy asked, her eyes wide with meaning.

"Fine, just another day at the office." Selina replied evenly.

"What do you do?" Harley asked. Selina blinked at her. She'd forgotten that she was there for a moment.

"Personal acquisition," she replied without missing a beat. "It's just a company job. Weird hours, good pay. Great to meet you, Harley, but I have to go."

"I'm sure I'll see you again soon," Harley said cheerfully. Selina didn't share her confidence, and she was struck by how apart Harley was from her or Ivy's criminal lives. Or Ivy's anyway. Selina didn't pretend to be anything else.

"Text me when you're there." Ivy said and Selina nodded, grabbing her backpack. It wasn't until she was out the door that she pulled the knife out of her sleeve, gripping it with shaking fingers. Whatever she was walking into, it wasn't a normal job. There had been something in Gerard's voice, something different. Selina didn't trust different.

And if he was going to try to kill her, she'd be damned if she didn't take him down with her.

It took her longer to get to the address Gerard had sent her. The theater district was farther away than the bar, all the way down by the water. Selina kept her hood up and a wary eye out for anyone who might think she was an easy mark. The neighborhood was still Falcone, but Selina had never spent much time here – Gerard owned her, she stayed in his territory.

"I'm here to see Gerard," she said to the burly man at the door. Selina had to question his choice of assassination spots. Blood would be a bitch to clean out of nightclub carpeting. The man grunted and moved aside, opening the door for her.

"Ah, here she is now," Gerard's voice came from the back of the club. "Come in, come in." Selina moved through the sea of tables and booths warily, not liking the change of scenery. "Welcome, welcome." Gerard said, sitting in a booth next to a stately black woman who Selina recognized immediately. "Although, I should leave the welcoming to the proprietor of this fine establishment. Selina, this is – "

"Fish Moony," Selina said, berating herself for not realizing it sooner. Everyone knew that Fish worked out of a nightclub. "I know who you are."

"You said she was smart," Fish said, sizing Selina up with sharp black eyes. Fish was the wrong nickname, Selina thought, trying not to squirm under her gaze. Fish smiled a shark's smile and settled back against the booth, looking pleased about something. "You never mentioned that she was a pretty little thing," she said, laying a hand on Gerard's.

"You said to get you the best, and Selina's my best. Pretty has nothing to do with it."

"But pretty is _useful_ ," Fish said. "Sit by me, Selina, let me have a look at you." Selina slid into the booth, sitting as far away from both of them as she could without seeming rude. If the rumors were true, Fish had a hair-trigger temper and didn't abide rudeness. "How like a man not to think of a woman's attractiveness an as asset. And my, my, look at those eyes. Oh, I could just pluck them out and wear them as a necklace. And that hair…but my God the bags under your eyes. Don't you ever sleep child?"

"Crime doesn't sleep and neither do I," Selina said cavalierly. Fish laughed, delighted.

"Well it's all well and good. We can use it. Can I offer you a drink, Selina?"

"It's ten in the morning and I'm eighteen," Selina declined.

"How very astute of you."

"I'm no use to anyone drunk."

"Very true, very true. You are impressive on paper, but I don't know about your skill…"

"I've told you her successes for me," Gerard said, sounding offended. He didn't like that someone was doubting the tricks his pet could do on command.

"Yes, yes, but words are cheap, as you well know. I've not seen any of this prodigious skill myself." Fish leaned forward, tapping long blood-red nails on her chin. "So tell me Selina, what makes you so special?" It was an audition. Selina would've rolled her eyes if she wasn't sure that Fish would gouge them out of her skull.

"I don't know if Gerard told you, but – " Selina pulled the knife out of her sleeve and twirled it in her fingers. The guard at the door surged toward, his hand traveling to the gun at his hip. "Hey, _calmati_ , big man." Fish motioned him away, still staring at Selina with sharp eyes. Selina inhaled through her nose, smiling coolly. They wanted Selina the reaper, they'd get Selina the reaper. Even though Selina the actual human being wanted to scream and then sleep for several weeks straight.

"Go on. What hasn't Gerard told me?"

"I like knives. Not such a fan of guns."

"And why's that?" Fish asked, drumming her claws on the table. Selina smiled, leaning forward, the knife still spinning in her hand.

"Everyone watches the knife. No one pays attention to what the other hand is doing. Lovely bracelet, by the way," she said, dangling the gold chain that Fish had been wearing a moment before off of the blade. "Too bad I took it from you." There was a tense moment before Fish leaned back, looking pleased.

"Very impressive," Fish purred. "Gerard, I do believe you undersold her. And I must say, I don't think anyone's robbed me in such close quarters."

"If everything I heard about you is true, anyone who robs you doesn't live long enough to spend it," Selina said, smirking.

"True." Fish said, clapping her hands together. "She's perfect. You're perfect, Selina."

"Brilliant. Are you going to tell me the job now?"

"Well," Fish said, frowning slightly. "One of my boys got in a little trouble, and he's being held at the police station. He'll go to trial soon, and it really would be a shame if I lost one of my best men."

"Where do I come in?" Selina asked, arching an eyebrow. "I assume that you don't want me to waltz into a building full of cops and break out one of your men? I'm good, but that's suicide."

"Oh no, no, no. I want you to waltz into a building full of cops and steal a file."

"What?"

"There's damning evidence being stored in the station, and the case hinges upon it. If that file were to disappear…"

"Then your man would get off scot-free." Selina filled in, understanding. "You do know that there will be more than one copy? It'll absolutely be backed up onto the police's server, and the DA will have one as well."

"I told you she was smart," Gerard said, smirking with satisfaction. Selina wanted to clock him. "Fish here has thought of that." Fish withdrew a flash drive from her bag, extending it to Selina.

"This will identify the file and destroy it, every copy of it. All you have to do it plug it. Easy."

Selina leaned back, flipping her knife in the air and catching it by the handle. "Easy. And when's the deadline for this tiny little job?"

"Oh, you'll be going today," Fish said, smiling the shark's smile again and watching closely to see her reaction. Selina took care to steel her features into an unconcerned mask. "It shouldn't be a problem for someone with your skill-set. I take it you know the interior of the precinct as well as anyone. This should just be a snap." A snap. Fish was insane, Selina decided. Insane, and trying to get her arrested. It was just Selina's luck that Gerard would find a friend just as bat-shit crazy as he was.

"I do know the precinct. Unfortunately, they also know me." If she walked in there she'd be arrested on the spot. They'd been trying to get her for years.

"Oh, we can do a little something about that." Fish purred. "When I'm done, your own mother wouldn't recognize you, let alone some idiot cops. So what do you say?" For half a second, Selina was tempted to refuse. Just say no and walk right out. Her eyes flashed to Gerard and his flinty smile promised murder if she did anything except for exactly what she was told.

"You've got yourself a reaper."

Fish wasn't wrong. A few hours later, Selina didn't recognize herself. In the dingy light of the nightclub's dressing room, she looked like a completely different person. Not like the night of the Wayne gala – that night she had just been another version of herself. The Blueblood Selina. But now, she was someone else entirely. Someone who wore pencil skirts and kitten heels, and sensible emerald blouses that accented the green of her eyes. Someone who wore just enough makeup to pass for professional, but still looked young and in need of protecting. Her hair, usually a mess atop her head, had been straightened and then curled again so that it hung in lazy ringlets down past her shoulders. To finish off the look, Fish handed her a pair of academic-looking glasses, the kind pretentious students at Gotham University always wore.

It was incredible, really. Some fitted clothes, makeup, and an old pair of glasses, and she wasn't Selina Kyle anymore. She could have been any college student in the country, or even a young journalist just starting out. She could've been any one of a thousand girls, but no one would recognize her a street rat and a thief.

"Look at you." Fish said, circling around Selina, tugging at loose threads and admiring her overall work. "You clean up quite nicely. I'll keep that in mind for the future." Selina didn't like the sound of that, but she just thanked Fish for the makeover.

"You will do well by me," Gerard hissed in her ear as she passed. Selina only gave him a red-painted smile.

"Don't I always?"

* * *

 

It took a few deep breaths before Selina got the courage to walk into the police station. Her disguise was good, but she'd never done anything so reckless. Well, she'd never done anything so reckless with such little planning in advance. To the credit of her disguise, no one stopped her. No one even looked twice her way.

Adjusting her glasses, Selina made her way to the reception desk, smiling at the officer behind it. "Hi, my name's Catalina," she said, making her voice slightly breathier than normal. "I was wondering if you could direct me to the forensics lab?" The cop looked at her skeptically. "I'm a criminal justice major at Gotham U with a minor in forensics, and I was looking for some firsthand sources for my dissertation."

"The lab's not open to the public," the cop grunted at her and turned back to his work.

"Oh come on," Selina said, leaning over the desk and flashing him her most brilliant smile. "My professor's a real hard-ass. I just need fifteen minutes. Do a girl a favor?" The cop's gaze wandered down to her chest and then back up to her face.

"Fine. Fifteen minutes." He gestured down the hall and Selina blew him a kiss before following his directions. She rolled her eyes with disgust as soon as her back was turned. Gotham's finest. No wonder the city was going to hell.

The lab was empty when Selina pushed open the door. It was small, just big enough for a few computers and some scattered pieces of equipment that she didn't know how to use. It was unorthodox to store files in a forensics laboratory, but the police department was downsizing. Whatever the reason, it made Selina's job easier. She plugged the flash drive into the computer without preamble, allowing the virus to begin its work as she searched for the hard copy.

"Oh," a quiet, nasal voice said from behind her. Selina spun to see a rail-thin man with glasses walk in. "Hello. Who are you?"

"Catalina Black," Selina said, extending a hand and trying to seem like she wasn't just digging through his files. "I'm a student at Gotham U…" she trailed off, spying the name-tag pinned to his lab coat. "Oh my God, you're Mr. Nygma!" The man blinked at her, not understanding and Selina prayed that the gamble wouldn't blow up in her face. "I've studied forensic science, and I've read some of your work." She looked down, trying for bashful. "I hope I'm not embarrassing you, but you're one of my heroes." It took a moment, but Nygma's face lit up.

"Thank you!" he said happily, shaking her hand. "It's always so nice to know that my work is being appreciated." Selina exhaled, relief making her dizzy.

"You're one of the experts in the field," she gushed. "I want to be a forensic scientist because of you."

"Well you know," Nygma said, obviously loving the affection. "I'm not just a scientist. I'm also a bit of a riddle aficionado." Selina raised an eyebrow. _That_ she hadn't seen coming. "Let's see what you're made of, Miss Black. 'I am the beginning of the end, and the end of time and space. I am essential to creation, and I surround every place. What am I?'"

"The letter e." Selina said after a moment. Nygma grinned, clapping his hands together.

"Excellent, excellent. Another: What is something the seller doesn't need, the buyer doesn't want, and the user doesn't know he's using?"

Something they could use less of in the Narrows. "A coffin." Selina replied again. She smiled, batting her lashes. "Is that all you've got? I could go on all day." Nygma threw a few more at her that Selina answered without any problem.

"I'll be right back," he said excitedly. "I've got a book of riddles in my desk. So nice to see a young person appreciate a good word game." As soon as he was gone, Selina slipped back into the file room, searching more quickly this time.

"Thank God," she murmured, pulling the file out of its container and stashing it in the oversized bag Fish had supplied. Selina yanked the flash drive out of the computer, dropped it into her pocket, and whirled out the door. She made it three steps before running headlong into a very tall and very familiar someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Wayne said, grabbing Selina's arms to steady her.

"It's alright," Selina said in her breathy voice, not meeting his gaze. For a moment she thought that he wouldn't recognize her, but in an instant his dark eyes widened with recognition.

"Selina?" he hissed, backing against a wall and pulling her with him. "What the hell are you _doing_ here?"

"I think you have me mistaken for someone else," Selina tried, but Wayne wasn't buying it.

"You're insane. You're insane. What could you possibly gain from coming here?"

"You don't get to ask me questions." Selina said curtly. "Goodbye now, Mr. Wayne."

"Absolutely not," Wayne said, snatching at her wrist when she tried to break away. "Tell me what you're doing here."

"Given the fact that I am no longer the captive in your magical house of horrors, you do not get to tell me what to do. I don't owe you _anything_." The last part was a snarl so venomous that Wayne took a step back from her. A step she would've used to get away if she didn't hear a voice coming back down the hall. Panic surged through her and Selina lurched forward, grabbing Wayne and pressing her lips to his, pushing them both against the wall. Wayne went rigid for a second and Selina expected him to shove her away, but suddenly he was kissing her back. He wound his fingers through her hair, one hand cupping her face like he had back at the mansion when she'd been bruised and battle-scarred, and Selina's thoughts scattered.

"Hey, hey, hey," a gruff voice said and Selina broke away from Wayne, her cheeks flushed. "You said you only needed fifteen minutes," the cop from the reception desk said, looking pissed.

"Sorry," she said, pulling herself together, and putting back on the mask of the flighty college student. "Guess I wanted to see how a billionaire kisses."

"Get out of here," the cop ordered, and Selina was only too happy to comply. She got what she was after. Selina made it out of the police station without anyone else bothering her and made it to the street a free woman. That had to be one of the craziest things she'd ever done, but one hell of a resume-builder. Selina replayed the entire heist over and over in her head as she hailed a cab and rode back to Fish's nightclub. It was a phenomenal job, some of the best work she'd ever done. And yet the whole ride back to the theater district, all Selina could think about was Wayne, and the way he kissed like he was dying.

He kissed like he was dying and she was the only one who could save him.


	14. Being Able to Breathe

“That was quick and painless, no?” Fish purred at Selina when she finally made it back to the nightclub.               

“Quick and painless,” Selina agreed, pulling the file out of her bag and dropping the flash-drive into Fish’s waiting hand. “Possibly some of my best work. You should see some of the saps they’ve got working down there. There’s some guy who is _way_ too enthusiastic about riddles.” She put as much arrogance into her words as she could, but it was a struggle. She was tired, and it had been a long day in a string of very long days.               

“You’ve done very well.” Fish commended. “You should keep the look, lovely girl. It suits you.”              

“Thank you. And thank you for the opportunity. Gerard knows my payment information, I’m sure he’ll be happy to pass it along.”               

“One more thing,” Gerard said and Selina froze before she could beat a hasty retreat. “It’s come to my attention that you are no longer living in your old apartment. Care to explain?” Selina paused for a moment, trying to come up with a lie that was more acceptable than ‘I don’t want you to know where I live in case you decide to kill me in my sleep.’ Somehow she knew that wouldn’t fly.               

“Oh come now, Gerry,” Fish tutted, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be such a nag. Selina is an adult, she can live where she wants.”             

“Adult or not, isn’t it in my best interest to know where my reapers are at all times?” Selina couldn’t help but raise a disdainful eyebrow. He sounded like a controlling, abusive boyfriend. Which wasn’t too far from the truth, if she thought about it. “I believe that a good businessman knows the whereabouts of his assets.” Reaper. Asset. Selina wasn’t even a person anymore.                “You sound like an old woman with all your worrying.” Fish said, smiling at her conspiratorially. “Your Selina can take care of herself, can’t you, love?”              

“I think I’ve proven that,” Selina said, smirking. “Don’t worry Gerry, you’ll still be able to reach me. I’m still your number one girl.” Just a little less accessible. “Besides, there was a lot of history tied to that place. People knew me there. A good businessman makes sure that his assets don’t hire themselves out.” Gerard’s eyes flashed and Selina knew that she was walking a very fine line.               

“Can’t say I blame you there,” Fish said. “A girl’s got to eat.”              

“A thief’s gotta steal,” Selina agreed, smiling. Fish laughed, high and trilling.              

“Oh I do like you, Selina. You are well on your way to becoming my favorite.” Lucky her. Although Selina seemed to recall that Fish’s last favorite had been Oswald Cobblepot, and she’d the one who’d turned him into the waddling freak that currently owned half of the timeshare that was Selina’s life. Fish’s favorite was a very dangerous thing to be.                             

“Well I am exceptionally good,” Selina said. “But even brilliant thieves like myself have to sleep. Fish, it’s an honor meeting you. Gerard, always a pleasure.”              

“ _Av revoir_ , darling reaper.”              

“ _Jusqu'à ce que nous nous réunissons à nouveau_ ,” Selina replied. Until we meet again. Fish complimented her French and Selina ducked out of the door.               

“Looks like you and Fish get along swimmingly,” Gerard said, coming out after her.               

“Was that a pun?” Selina asked, unwilling to let the ‘arrogant thief’ mask drop just yet. It was her best protection. “Yeah, she’s just my kind of crazy.” She paused, gauging Gerard’s reaction. It wasn’t angry, or violent. He was jealous. “And hey, you’re not allowed to be mad that she likes me. You’re the one who introduced me to your diabolical female counterpart.”              

“She asked for a reaper.” Gerard said begrudgingly. It was all Selina could do not to roll her eyes. He was the one who brought her in. And he had to know that she could use every ally she could find. If this all went south, there was a good chance she could use Fish for protection, but Selina figured that Gerard hadn’t thought the plan all the way through. In his haste to prove that he wasn’t a double-crossing bastard by helping Fish, he’d given Selina an out, whether he knew it or not.               

“And that’s what she got,” Selina said. “Gerard, I love you, you know I do but I just walked into a building full of cops. Three of them have arrested me before, so you can understand why I’m a little emotionally exhausted.”              

“Of course, of course,” Gerard said, waving her off. “Sleep well darling.”              

Selina didn’t go straight back to Ivy’s loft, paranoid about being followed, but circled around downtown for a while until the sun finally went down.               

“I need a drink,” Selina announced, keying into the apartment through the front door. “You would not believe the day I’ve had.”               

“Jesus Christ, what happened to you?” Ivy asked, nearly spitting out her drink when Selina walked into the kitchen. Which she probably shouldn’t have been drinking in the first place considering she was mixing chemicals over the sink. There was something boiling in the corner, giving off fumes. Selina hoped that Ivy had disabled the carbon dioxide alarm.               

“Fish Mooney happened. Nice lady, good sense of style, absolutely bat-shit crazy.”              

“So what was the job? You break into a sorority or something?”              

“Police station.” Ivy’s mouth dropped open and the humor left her eyes. “I know. The thirty-third precinct. I had to steal some personnel file.”              

“What’s Gerard want with a file? And is he crazy having you go into the thirty-third? He knows you’ve been booked there before, they could’ve recognized you.”              

“It wasn’t Gerard. It was Fish. I got loaned out to Falcone’s crazy second-in-command. Next thing you know the big guy himself is going to show up at my door.”              

“You know how crazy that is, right? He _loaned you out_?” Selina couldn’t disagree, but she was momentarily distracted by Ivy’s mixture starting to throw up acid-green bubbles. Ivy swore and dumped a white powder into the vat in the sink. The sizzling stopped and the liquid calmed to a light blue. “Oh, jeez, sorry. This stuff is crazy temperamental.” Selina let her play with her chemicals, taking the opportunity to slip away and change. She felt better when she’d replaced Fish’s perfect clothes with her own torn up jeans and old T-shirt. Selina tied back the sleek hair that wasn’t her own in a messy bun and snapped the fake glasses for good measure. Whens she looked in the mirror, Selina looked a little more like herself again but her mind was still whirling without hundreds of thoughts. Gerard and Fish. Gerard and the Penguin. Wayne. Why he was in the courthouse, why he had managed to recognize her when her own mother wouldn’t have been able to. The way he kissed her like he was drowning and she was air.               

“Aw, you look like shit again,” Ivy quipped when Selina came back into the kitchen. Her concoction, whatever it was, had settled at the bottom of the vat, clear as glass. “I liked the other look. Very ‘thief-chic.’” Selina flinched, remembering how Alfred had used the same term.               

“Can I have this?” Selina asked, changing the subject and pushing the memory aside. She grabbed the coffee machine and broke it against the marble counter without waiting for Ivy’s permission. She needed to fix something. She needed to break something first. Anything to quiet the thoughts roiling around in her head.               

“That’s my coffeemaker. You just broke my coffeemaker,” Ivy said, pouting a little. “Damn, it must have been a really, really long day.”              

“You have no idea. I had to play word games with this nerdy forensic analyst. It was all very _The Hobbit_.” Ivy laughed and they traded riddles for a little while before falling into easy silence, each working on their own project. Selina let her hands do the thinking for her, mechanically putting the coffee machine back together, and occasionally running to the coat closet where Ivy had a basket full of old machine parts for her. Sometimes when Selina was bored or stressed, she’d see what she could make just out of those parts alone. The results had been interesting, to say the least.               

“What the hell is that anyway?” Selina asked when she was almost finished. “You look like some kind of housewife mad scientist.”              

“It’s an antidote. Or it will be. It’s for you.” Selina raised an eyebrow, fiddling with a piece of scrap metal and waiting for an explanation. “I know, I know, you’re not about injecting anything, but with all the crazy that’s been going on lately, I’m trying to think of ways to keep you alive. Poison isn’t exactly Gerard’s style, but believe me when I tell you that it can be a nasty way to go. I said I was going to help you, this is how I help you.”              

“This isn’t – ”              

“Selina, I love you. And it is because I love you that I am going to inoculate you with this whether you want it or not.” Suddenly there was an edge to Ivy’s voice that hadn’t been there before. Selina squinted, trying to figure out where the change had been.               

“I don’t want it.” Selina insisted, looking at her hand, the machine, anywhere by Ivy and hating the feeling that she was being cornered. Ivy _knew_ Selina’s policy on narcotics. She _knew_. Why the hell would she bring this up? “I don’t want it, V. Thank you, it’s very sweet – ”              

“It’s not sweet!” Ivy snapped, banging on the counter so hard that Selina jumped, dropping her wrench. “I’m not doing this to be nice, Sel. I’m doing this because you are on the shit list of some very powerful people and I am trying to keep you alive in any way I can. This I can do. Let me do this.”               

“No one’s going to poison me. Besides maybe you by accident, but I’ll forgive you” Selina said, trying to keep it light. Ivy angry was nothing new, but this was something just short of desperate.                “I can’t keep you safe!” Ivy said shrilly, her voice shredding through several octaves. “There are people – real, scary people – who are trying to kill you, and I can’t keep you safe. You could’ve been killed today. I knew something was weird, but I was too busy playing house with my fucking girlfriend to keep you from going. And all day I was sick thinking that you weren’t coming home because today was the day that he decided to kill you. All day I've been feeling like I was drowning and then you walked in and it was like I could breathe again. But what if you hadn't come back? What if he'd killed you?"              

“But he didn’t.”               

“But he _could have_. I can’t protect you, but I can do this. Why won’t you let me?” Ivy turned away, grabbing something out of one cabinet and shoving it into another. She slammed things around for a few minutes before speaking again. “You don’t get to die first,” Ivy whispered. “Selina, you don’t think. What do you think will happen to me if you get yourself killed?” Selina felt her stomach drop, seeing tears gathering on Ivy’s lashes. Ivy didn’t cry as a point of fact. The last time – the only time – Selina had ever seen her cry was when she’d found out that she was going to prison. “I can’t keep you safe from Gerard, but I can do this. Please let me do this, because I refuse to live in a world without you.” Selina blinked, taken aback. She knew that Ivy worried about her, but nothing like this. Selina never should have told her. She never would have told her if she’d known that Ivy would react like this.               

“I’ll take it.” Selina said softly after a few moments of horrible silence. She reached across the counter, grabbing Ivy’s hand. “V. I love you, and I am so sorry I’m putting you through this.”              

“I’m not. We’re criminals, Sel. This is how it goes. You can take care of yourself, I know that, but I’ll be damned if I don’t help.”              

“That settles it then,” Selina said, pushing the coffeemaker to the other side of the counter and leaning towards Ivy with a smile. “Enough with this wishy-washy bullshit. Come on, I want to show you something.” 

 

“You can fight?” Ivy said, raising a vibrantly red eyebrow. The two of them were standing in the loft’s living room, having pushed all of the furniture into a haphazard ring.               

“Your lack of faith hurts me,” Selina complained, adjusting the wrappings on her hands like Wayne had taught her. She shook her head, trying to trying to get rid of the memory of him. “It does, truly.”              

“I am nearly half a foot taller than you, Sel. One good hit and I could take your head off.” Selina rolled her eyes.               

“You’re not going to get one good hit.”              

“Now who’s the one with the lack of faith?” Ivy asked, smirking. She’d recovered from her little emotional meltdown in the loft and was back to her old self. Thank God. “Why do you even know how to fight, Sel? I’ve never seen you without at least two knives on you, and you know this city better than anyone. Why the hell would you bother?” Because she wanted to feel like she actually stood a chance of surviving. Because Wayne had convinced her that there were other options than just running or taking a beating.               

“Because sometimes hitting something feels really, really good,” Selina said. “And if you think you can hit me, fine, give it your best shot.” She stayed perfectly still as Ivy lurched forward, swinging blindly. Selina ducked, jabbing at Ivy’s ribs before darting to the other end of the ring. “Oh, come on, V, that was pathetic.”              

“I told you – ” Ivy said, swinging again and missing again. “You and I haven’t needed to get into fistfights since we lived under the pass. You’re great with blades and I can shoot. Besides, I don’t get into nearly – ” Swing. Miss. “As much trouble as you do.”              

“Yeah, I know I’m a pain in the ass.” Selina surged forward, tapping twice at Ivy’s midsection and getting in a light jab at her chin before dancing away. “But you’re my partner in crime, literally.”              

“This partner in crime is going to kick your ass if you don’t stop doing that.”              

“Are you?” Selina taunted, darting towards her and away too quickly for Ivy to land a hit. “Are you going to kick my ass?” Ivy lunged at her with a roar and Selina backpedaled away, swearing and laughing in equal measure.               

Selina and Ivy sparred almost every day after that, more for fun than anything else. It was a good way to beat out her aggression and anxiety, and since the police station job, she’d been sleeping better. Even managed to make it through a whole night without nightmares. Ivy was starting to get the hang of it too, even though she insisted that it was a waste of time. Selina argued that as long as she was pumping herself full of the anti-venom Ivy had cooked up once a day, Ivy would damn well learn to fight.               

Despite the nightmares and Ivy’s protests, Selina moved into a new place that Leo had scouted for her. It was bigger than the old one, all open spaces and high ceilings. It was too nice for her, if she was being honest, not to mention too expensive, but according to Leo, the old owner had been carted off and he’d gotten a great price at auction. Under an alias, of course. As an added bonus, it was on the river, so the trek to her workshop was shorter. When she wasn’t at Ivy’s, she spent a lot of time in her workshop, trying not to think. Not about Gerard or Wayne or Fish or Wayne or Oswald Cobblepot or Wayne. Especially not Wayne. Especially not about the way he’d kissed her.               

There was a lot not to think about.  

* * *

 

Bruce was trying not to think about her. There was a lot not to think about. What with her mysterious appearance at a police station of all places, and looking like…she had. It had taken him a minute to recognize her – she’d for all the world looked like a Gotham U student. And she’d been wearing lipstick. That was what had thrown him the most. Bruce had never noticed Selina’s lips before, but when she’d been pretending to be whoever she was pretending to be, he couldn’t stop staring.               

It was the eyes, though, that had given her away. Big and green and forever analyzing, looking for patterns, escapes, answers. No matter how much makeup she put on, nothing could conceal those eyes. And whatever she was doing there, it sure as hell wasn’t legal. She was a criminal, Bruce had no illusions about that; there was no reason for her to be in a police station. No legal reason anyway. He’d been obsessing about her motives for days. What would be worth the risk of her going to the station full of cops? Especially looking like she was something out of a student catalogue. If he was being truthful, he was obsessing. Alfred had been trying to get him out of the house for days, or at least interested in a new project. Bruce was so preoccupied with Selina that he’d completely neglected why he’d gone to the station in the first place. He was doing research on the crime families and was looking for firsthand information. The families had been at war for as long as he could remember, and Bruce had decided that it was time that he knew more. His parents had worked to take the families down, and when they’d died all of that effort had gone straight to shit.               

But all of it, worrying about the mob, wondering how or why Selina was in the station, it was a distraction. A distraction to keep him from thinking about the way she had kissed him. One second she’d looked like she would gladly throw him off of a bridge, and the next she had pulled his head down to meet hers. At first he’d been so surprised that he couldn’t move, but somehow Bruce ended up kissing her back. Suddenly he was kissing her back and it was like being able to breathe. And goddamn if he couldn’t stop thinking about it.               

Kissing Selina – the crazy, scary, fearless, beautiful girl that had crashed into his life – was like being able to breathe after years of drowning.


	15. Second

In the few days after the station job, two things happened. One: six reapers were killed. Falcone's reapers, gunned down in the street or on assignments. And two: White Hill was bombed.

Things had been getting back to normal. Selina was all settled into her new apartment. It was still stocked from furniture from its previous owner, and Selina hadn't had to buy a thing. Jobs were rolling in from Gerard and Fish had even invited her back to the nightclub for lunch. That had been a very strange meal, but Selina had been playing the role of self-assured mobster for years, she was good at it by now. And in an odd, scary kind of way, Fish was actually fun to be around. She was terrifying, undoubtedly, but Selina had fallen into her graces, and that was a very good place to be. Ivy, especially, couldn't believe that Selina had been swapping stories and laughing with Falcone's second. Selina could hardly believe it herself.

When she wasn't on jobs or at Ivy's – either sparring, or just hanging around – Selina was logging hours in her workshop. Her T-Bird was almost finished and she'd be able to drive it within the next few weeks. It was perfect timing, really. If there was ever a need for a getaway car, it was now. But despite all of the insanity hanging over her, Selina was finally able to walk outside without constantly ducking her head and waiting to be shot. Under the protection of bulletproof windows and several locks on each door, she was sleeping more soundly, with only a few nightmares per week. Selina had even managed to push Wayne to the back of her mind, shoving him into a corner where she couldn't feel the warmth of his touch or the piercing scrutiny of those dark eyes.

Everything was, for lack of a better word, good. And then Selina got a phone call.

"I already took my dose today, V," Selina said, pressing her phone to her ear and speaking around the pencil she'd been chewing on. "You don't have to call every day to make sure. What you do have to do is up the potency on this stuff because I'm starting to look like a heroin junkie." As per Ivy's instructions, Selina had been injecting the serum into her bloodstream once a day and it was starting to leave track marks. If Gerard started doing random drug tests she was in trouble.

"Selina shut up." Ivy's voice was high and strangled. "Where are you?" The pencil dropped out of her mouth and Selina straightened, everything flashing onto high alert.

"What's going on?" she demanded. "What happened?"

"Selina are you in your house? Are you safe?"

"Ivy you're scaring me. I'm home, I'm safe. What's going on?"

"They got shot." Ivy ground out. "It was an attack."

"Who got shot Ivy?" Selina asked, trying to be patient. This was Gotham, people got shot all the time and nobody batted an eye, least of all Ivy.

"Andre, and Piers, and Monica…and Sam. Oh my God, Sel, Sam got cut down right in front of me. There was so much blood and he was screaming…" Selina went cold, running through the names in her head. "They're not the only ones. Julio and Dmitri are dead too. One of your contacts called me, they said that they couldn't get ahold of you…Jesus Christ, Sel I thought you were dead too." It took Selina a moment an embarrassingly long time to figure out why Ivy had panicked. All of the dead were reapers, every one of them. Reapers like her.

"Holy shit they're killing us," Selina whispered, stumbling into a chair. She knew everyone that Ivy had listed; she'd even worked with Piers and Dmitri on a couple of jobs. "V are you okay?"

"I'm fine, they weren't aiming for me, but Sam…. they sheared him in half."

"Shit." Selina said, thinking of Ivy standing in the street covered in blood and feeling ill. "I'm coming over."

"Don't you fucking dare," Ivy snarled. "They're killing reapers, Sel. Stay where you are until all of this blows over and don't leave for anything. I'll call you when I hear that it's safe. But until then, lock yourself in and don't move. Promise me."

"I promise. Be safe."

"You too." Ivy hung up and Selina held the phone in shaking hands. Jesus. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying not to let her imagination get away from her. She was safe here. Nobody knew where she was. Ivy was okay. Shaken up, but okay. Breathe, she told herself. Just breathe. Despite her self-assurances, Selina still jumped when the phone rang again.

"Darling," Fish's voice said over the phone, cool as ever. "I'm glad you picked up."

"Yeah me too, considering that reapers are dropping like flies. What the hell is going on?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," Fish replied calmly. How could she be calm? These were her employees, her people. "Are you safe, Selina?"

"I'm fine but the body count is high. Six of us, Fish. Six." And she could have easily been any of them. "Who did this?"

"No one's taken credit yet. But when we find out they're dead, believe me. Stay where you are until then, will you? I don't want my favorite getting herself shot. Ta." The line went dead and Selina dropped the phone. Selina paced around the apartment, unease and fear churning inside of her. It had to be Maroni. There was no one else who'd benefit from taking out so many members of Falcone's organization. But why reapers? There was something to be said about taking out bangers; they were the lowest of the low when it came to crime and there were plenty of them. Getting rid of them would send a message. Or going after higher-ups, to prove that Falcone couldn't protect those close to him. But reapers? They were middlemen, unimportant in the grand scheme of the family but independently skilled and paid very well. There was no definite message to be said by killing them, no obvious benefit. Why the hell would Maroni go after thieves? And how had his people known where to find them? None of it made any sense.

Twitchy and paranoid, Selina sat on the couch, switching on the television to try to calm her nerves. Not likely. The news stations had already picked up the story, and for once murder in the poorer part of the city had everyone's attention.

"A coordinated attack that left six dead," one news anchor said, a blonde woman with teeth so white that they hurt Selina's eyes. "Authorities are still investigating exactly what is was that connected the victims, each of whom was killed between three and three-ten this afternoon." Shit. Whoever had coordinated the attack, they'd been good. Professional. Even more evidence that Maroni had a hand in it. "Every victim was under twenty-six, the youngest being seventeen, although it is unclear whether or not their young ages had anything to do with the murders."

"They're reapers you goddamn moron," Selina snapped at the TV. Of course they didn't have any connections. Reapers were independent, operating separately of the families. Sure, they pledged loyalty for protection, but most didn't just work for the mob. The only way to know reapers was to be a reaper, which was how they'd been able to avoid attention from the police for so long. And it wasn't as if they went around with group chats in their phones labeled "Thieves." If they even had any contact at all it was via burner phones. The only contact Selina had ever had in a real phone was Ivy's.

The newswoman continued blithely, and Selina flipped through the channels. She waiting for Ivy to call, but her phone didn't ring again except for once when Leo called to tell her about some guy who was hanging out around her old place. Selina didn't think much of it; if creeps or pervs knew that there was a girl living alone, sometimes they'd hover under she proved that she wasn't an easy target. He'd be gone in a day or two. After that it was just silence and the news as she watched the hours pass and the sun dip under the horizon. It was going to be a long, long night.

Selina was woken up by an alarm blaring on the television, shattering the calm of the early morning news anchors' soft-spoken discussion.

"Jesus shit," she swore, startling awake. The screen was brick-red, with black block letters scrolling across it, screaming: ATTACK ON WHITE HILL. The message relayed itself over and over while Selina sat, frozen, on the couch. After what felt like an eternity, the screen vanished and a man appeared, holding a microphone as smoke rose in the background. "Oh my God," Selina whispered, panic spreading through her like poison. It was real. Someone had set a bomb off on the Hill. The man started speaking, but Selina was already moving, grabbing her hoodie and racing out the door.

Don't be dead, Selina prayed, running down the street and shoving onto the first Hill-bound bus she could find. Goddammit, please don't be dead.

It was only twenty minutes to White Hill but it might as well have been an eternity. Selina tapped her fingertips on her leg, clutching the knife in her pocket in the other hand. Come on, come on, come on, she thought over and over like a mantra, trying to keep the frantic fear at bay, fear that she couldn't control, much less understand. Overwhelmed with the smell of smoke the instant she stepped off of the bus, Selina felt her heart pound as she weaved through the crowd of people that had amassed. News vans were already crowding the barrier that the police had set up and firemen were rushing everywhere, trying to put out the fire that was licking at the sky and spitting smoke into the air.

"Someone bombed the Blakes," someone whispered behind her and Selina exhaled, dizzy with relief. "It was the Blakes' mansion." She turned and ran away from the crowd, slipping through a hole in the back fence of Wayne's property that wasn't monitored by security cameras. Selina picked the lock of the back door and burst into the house, running through the halls without thinking. She was so wrapped up in her own mind that she didn't notice the figure in the hallway until she'd run into him.

"Selina?" Wayne said, grabbing her shoulders to steady her, his mouth dropping open. "What the – you're alive?"

"You're okay," Selina said. "Oh my God, you're okay." For once she didn't shrug out of his grip, too relieved to see him standing in front of her, tall and dark and alive.

"I'm okay?" Wayne repeated, his voice thick with disbelief. "Six of your people get gunned down in cold blood and you're worried about me?" He paused, realization dawning on his face. "You were worried about me?"

"You know about that?" Selina demanded, ignoring the strange look that had come over his face. "How do you know about that?"

"I saw it on the news, and I've been researching the families…I tried to find you yesterday – "

"That was you?" Selina gaped, thinking of Leo's phone call about the prowler last night. "Jesus it's like you want to get yourself killed. Wait, why were you trying to find me?" Wayne paused, blushing red.

"I was scared. For you. I was worried about you and I wanted to make sure that you were okay and then you weren't there and I was even more worried." He stopped for half a second before going on, speaking even faster than before. "And how the hell did you get past the police? They've got a barrier and there are cameras and – " His words cut off as Selina lifted herself onto her toes and pulled his head down to meet her halfway, kissing him into silence. Partly because he was rambling, and partly because he'd never been attractive to her until he was blushing, and suddenly she couldn't remember why. He didn't freeze this time, kissing her back immediately and Selina melted.

"I'm a criminal, you idiot," she said, a little breathlessly, when they broke apart. "Barriers and cameras aren't going to keep me out." She kissed him again, shorter and sweeter than the first, still trying to pretend like she hadn't been thinking about him since the police station. Since before the police station. "I'm glad you're not dead," she whispered against his chest. "Don't you ever die on me."

"I'll do my best," Wayne replied softly and even without looking up Selina could see his smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll forgive how short this chapter was but it is so important that I didn't want to take away from the ending by adding more. Hope you enjoyed it!


	16. Not Real

"Miss Selina, I was wondering when you might come back here." Selina stepped away from Wayne, old habits telling her to distance herself from everyone in the room in case of an attack. "Although I must say that you took your sweet time about it. Young Master Wayne's been pining for weeks."

"Jesus Christ, Alfred," Wayne muttered, his blush deepening, creeping up his very, very high cheekbones. "I was not pining."

"Oh, you should have seen him," Alfred said conspiratorially. "Moping about and locking himself in the office." Selina smiled mechanically, her defenses snapping into place at the sight of the old butler. Alfred asked questions. Alfred knew too much. Alfred, for all of his civility and refinement, was _dangerous_.

"I was _not_ moping," Wayne protested.

"I am glad that you're safe, Miss Selina," Alfred said, a little more seriously. "That nasty business with those children. They were too young, and you'll forgive me if I'm glad you weren't one of them." Jesus, did everyone in the city know about reapers now? Selina wondered what the pair of them had been reading that they'd been able to put it all together. As far as Selina knew, there was no record of them available to the police. And if there was, she might have to make another stop at the precinct with a copy of Fish's magic virus to get rid of it.

Another siren rent the air and Selina flinched.

"Jesus Christ," she hissed, eyes darting up to the ceiling, feeling like it was going to come crashing down on top of her. The spacious halls had never seemed more claustrophobic and somehow the walls seemed to be crawling even closer together. "Are we safe in here? I mean, the roof's not going to come down on top of us, is it?"

"No, no, they assured me that it's perfectly safe. In fact, we've been instructed to stay inside until told otherwise.

"You okay?" Wayne asked, and there was something in his voice that was quiet and familiar. He didn't move any closer, for which she was grateful, but his dark eyes still shone with concern.

"Busy couple of days," she replied. The relief that he was alive was starting to fade, and Selina was struck with the seriousness of the steps she'd taken. She'd left the safety of her apartment while it was open season on reapers to make sure Wayne was safe. She'd snuck into his mansion while the press was right outside without so much as a backup plan. And she'd kissed him. Until a few days ago she hadn't even _liked_ him, let alone…

She didn't regret it, Selina realized with a start. Part of her expected to want to run out the door, flee like she always did, but she didn't want to. She wasn't scared. Fear of being blown up or shot notwithstanding, being here didn't scare her. Selina had been living with anxiety gnawing at her insides for years, keeping her sharp and alive, but it was gone. Vanished, as if it had never been there in the first place and Selina felt lighter than she had in a long time. Sure, Alfred made her suspicious, and she'd need time to sort out everything that was swirling inside of her, but she didn't regret coming here. She sure as hell didn't regret kissing him.

And from the looks of it, Wayne didn't regret it either.

"Can I get you anything?" he said a beat too late. Selina bit her lip to keep from laughing. He'd been staring at her.

"By 'you' do you mean Jeeves?" Selina asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I think, Master Bruce," Alfred said before Wayne could respond, "that I've some errands to do. You're on your own." Selina was surprised that he didn't correct her on his name, but he seemed to sense her apprehension about him. Alfred had been the one to drive her away the first time. The old butler winked at her before striding down the hall, off to do some imaginary errands, no doubt.

"You look hungry," Wayne said once he was gone.

"That could be the tagline of my autobiography," Selina quipped, instantly wishing she hadn't when Wayne's face went dark for a moment. "And I'm not convinced that anything you cook won't poison me."

"Your lack of faith wounds me," Wayne said, putting his hand over his heart. "Come on, I can prove that billionaires aren't all completely useless." He smiled and started off down the hall towards the kitchen.

"I never said all billionaires," Selina replied, following him. "I said you."

"Ouch," Wayne complained, but his voice was light and he was still smiling. "Let the record show that _you_ kissed _me_ , not the other way around."

"You kissed me back," Selina reminded him. "And I don't think you get to throw that in my face just yet." At least not until she managed to get it all sorted in her own head.

"Fair enough." Wayne said amiably. "Just tell me when and I'll have jokes ready. Ow," he said when Selina jabbed her elbow into his side. "That would be my kidney. I need that, you know." Selina smiled.

"I think you'll survive."

To Selina's great surprise, Wayne _could_ cook. Not well and nothing fancy, but it wasn't the disaster Selina had assumed it would be. She perched on a stool in front of the breakfast bar and he set down a steaming plate of pasta.

"What do you think?" he asked, looking far more anxious than he should have. It was only spaghetti and a bomb had recently gone off in his neighborhood. He needed to get his priorities in order.

"This is disgusting," she said around half a mouthful of noodles, nearly choking when she saw Wayne's face fall. "Oh Jesus, you look like someone told you Santa isn't real. I'm just kidding, it's good."

"Wow, okay, that wasn't nice," Wayne said, hurt converting to surprise and then laughter. Selina would be surprised too. He was taking all of this very well, considering most of the contact they'd had included her swearing at him or hitting him in the face. "I know I don't have a Michelin star but give me some credit."

"It's good, it's good, I promise," Selina said. "How come you can cook anyway? Don't you have personal chefs for that? Or Jeeves at least?"

"I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth," Wayne said unabashedly. "My parents figured that I might as well be able to feed myself with it." Selina fell silent, not knowing how to respond. She had no idea how he'd been brought up, and she had just assumed that because his family was, well, the Waynes, that he couldn't do anything for himself.

"Are you okay?" Wayne asked after a while. Selina ducked her head. That was a hard question to answer. "You don't have to stay here, you know." Selina looked up at that. "I just mean that with all that's happened, the reaper shooting and everything…if you want to go, you can. I mean, I don't think we've ever had a conversation where you aren't yelling at me or I'm not thinking that you're absolutely insane."

"Thank you for that," Selina said coolly.

Wayne stuttered, blushing again. "No, that's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?" Selina said, setting down her fork and lacing her fingers beneath her chin.

"I mean I'm giving you an out. You're…" Wayne paused, struggling for words, and dammit if Selina didn't find it endearing. "You're not a real person to me. You just appear in my life, send everything spinning into chaos, and then disappear again. And if I'm not real for you either, if you just panicked and came here without thinking, then you can go. And you don't have to come back and you don't have to worry about me – "

"You're not real," Selina said, realizing the truth to his words. He'd put it perfectly. He wasn't any more real to her than she was to him. He just showed up, turned her life upside down, and then she ran away. Usually there were life-threatening situations involved, but he was right. She'd built him up in her head, and she had no idea what he was like when she wasn't being held hostage in his house, or when neither of them were in serious danger. Wayne's face fell, but he nodded, looking like he was trying to brace himself. "But I don't want to go. You're right, I panicked and I didn't think before I came here, but I was scared for you and…" Selina trailed off, trying not to think about how ridiculous she sounded. She was terrible at this, especially since she had no idea what she was feeling or what to say. "Someone killed six of my people yesterday and very well could've killed me too, but I came anyway, because I was more worried about you than me." Wayne just stared at her, dark eyes unfathomable, and Selina took a deep breath, realizing that this was probably the longest she'd ever talked to him. "You're not real because you're a billionaire and I'm not real because I'm a criminal."

"I understand," Wayne said, staring at his pasta.

"Do you know what real is?" Selina asked softly, not looking at him. "For me? Real is getting used to gunshots. It's sleeping at three-hour intervals because I spent two years living under a bridge. It's working for people I am so afraid of that I feel sick every time my phone rings." It was the mansion getting to her again but Selina couldn't stop talking. "Real is blood and pain and always looking over my shoulder and one day real is going to kill me. That's what real is."

"Selina…" Wayne started.

"I don't want an out." Selina cut in, meeting his eyes and refusing to look away. "I don't want real." She didn't know what she wanted. None of this made sense. She should've hated him – she _had_ hated him. Really, truly hated him. And then she hadn't. It was as simple as that.

"Not real it is. So. You're not a criminal and I'm not a billionaire." Wayne agreed like it was the most rational thing in the world. "Tell me something about yourself that is just you. Not Alleycat or a reaper or whoever. Just Selina."

"I think that's enough sharing for one day," Selina said, suddenly feeling exposed. She'd all but written out her life story for him and she felt like a sap. Ivy would've laughed. Actually Ivy would be furious that Selina had left the apartment when there were reaper killers on the loose.

"Hobbies then. What does Not-Real Selina like to do? Besides being badass and beautiful."

"Cars," Selina managed, trying to force her brain to work. Beautiful. He'd called her beautiful, the word dropping from his lips effortlessly. "I like fixing up old cars. Just fixing things in general, actually." Wayne grinned, setting his uneaten bowl of pasta aside.

"Then have I got a surprise for you."

* * *

 

"No fucking way." Selina's mouth dropped open as Wayne flicked on the lights to his cavernous garage. "No _fucking_ way." It was like something out of a movie. The space was big enough to house a small airplane, and it was completely filled with cars. Camaros, Cadillacs, Mercedes'. There were makes and models that Selina didn't even know still existed just sitting there gathering dust.

"My dad was a car person," Bruce said, shrugging. "He went all over the country looking for antique models."

"And you just keep them here?" Selina asked, gaping. "You don't drive them. At all? They're just stuck in this garage?"

"My dad barely let me breathe in here, let alone drive any of these." Wayne said, shrugging. "I don't know anything about cars."

"Oh my God," Selina said, dragging her hand down her face. Without waiting for any kind of permission, Selina started down the line, inspecting each car in turn. They were perfect, all of them. Selina had never seen such finely tuned engines. She was so wrapped in her own thoughts that she didn't notice that Wayne wasn't following her. She also didn't notice that he had a tire iron.

Shit!" she swore, slinking into a defensive position when an earsplitting _crack_ echoed through the garage. "Jesus," she mumbled, stowing her knives when she couldn't find a threat and before Wayne could see that she had them on her. Slipping them into the sheathes she wore under her sleeves, Selina swore again when she saw what Wayne was doing. "Oh my God," she breathed, walking over to the mess he'd made of one of the cars in the back. "No. No no no no, what the hell did you _do_?" Selina's mouth dropped open, seeing Wayne standing over the mangled body if a 1962 Ferrari. _The_ 1962 Ferrari. Selina had been too absorbed in the others that she hadn't even seen what Wayne had done – he'd beaten the hell out of it, for once thing. And she had no idea what damage he'd wrought upon the engine, but it was steaming beneath the newly-battered hood. "Do you have any idea what car this is?"

"A shiny one?" Wayne said glibly. "I don't know actually, but my dad was really excited about it." Selina raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on that.

"This is one of the most expensive cars _in the world_." She couldn't believe that Wayne's father had bought it. Selina had tracked the auction for a while out of curiosity, but she had no idea that it had ended up back in Gotham, of all places.

"You said you like fixing up old cars, not just staring at them." Wayne said, looking very pleased with himself. "1962 was a long time ago. I think this qualifies."

"You're an idiot," Selina grumbled, throwing open the hood. Even broken, the engine was beautiful, not to mention years ahead of anything she'd ever cobbled together.

"So can you fix it?" Wayne asked, interrupting her diagnostic. "Because my father will roll in his grave if I messed with this car and you can't put it back together."

"No pressure," Selina grumbled. "I don't know. I don't have a blueprint, or any of the parts I need because _you_ conveniently destroyed some of them."

"In that case, I've got to show you something," Wayne said, grinning. He pressed his palm against a panel in the wall and it lit up, a blue screen appearing out of nothing. "'62 Ferrari blueprints," he dictated, and the skeleton of the car appeared on the wall. "They're installed on the floor too. Check this out." With a sharp tug, Wayne pulled a model of the car into the middle of the room.

"You have a holoscreen," Selina gaped, circling around the floating schematic of the Ferrari. She knew that they existed, but had never seen one in person before. Although, they _were_ being installed in several Fortune 500 companies, which she guessed would include Wayne Enterprises. It took a little getting used to, but Selina managed to get the screen to work for her. Quickly, she stripped the hood until all that was left was a map of the engine.

"I thought that Not-Real Wayne wasn't a billionaire," Selina said wryly, staring at him through the projection of the engine. Wayne shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Last time I checked us plebeians didn't get holographic screens installed in our houses."

"I figured you'd appreciate the exception," Wayne said with a smile. Selina couldn't argue with him there. The holoscreen had to be one of the coolest things she'd ever seen.

"I think I could fix it," Selina said after studying the hologram for a while, taking apart the model of the engine and making sure she could put it back together. "But I don't have any of the parts I'd need." You couldn't simply rebuild a Ferrari with any old scrap metal. Especially not _that_ Ferrari. Carefully, Wayne laid a hand on her shoulder, gesturing to all of the cars in the garage. Selina didn't shrug him off.

"Take your pick."

"Your dad would kill me," Selina said softly.

"My dad would appreciate someone loving these cars like he did." Wayne replied. "Just tell me what you need." Selina smiled at the prospect of a new project, her eyes darting to the holoscreen.

"Can you make lists on this thing?"

Selina lost track of time, losing herself in the work like she always did. What she never lost track of was Wayne. She was painfully aware of him, always hovering just behind her, handing her tools or asking how he could help. Selina didn't know where any of this was going, or what the hell she was doing here, but he wasn't pushing anything. And Selina was content just being here, which was odd. She'd never felt comfortable with people watching her work, not even Ivy. But Wayne was quiet and helpful and unobtrusive. For all the world it seemed like he was just happy to be with her. Which was new but not altogether unpleasant.

"Selina?" he said softly, touching her wrist. Selina snapped out of her own head, blinking at him. "Your phone's ringing," he said. "Sorry to drag you out of your little world."

"Thanks," Selina said, reaching into her back pocket. "Hello?"

"You're good babe," Ivy's said, her voice distorted. The cell signal was bad down here. Selina was surprised that the call had come through at all, especially on her crappy burner. "Apparently Falcone raised holy hell and he said that if any more reapers – or _any_ of his – got gunned down, he was going to start picking off Maroni's people."

"That doesn't sound good to me," Selina said. It sounded like the start of a gang war. Everyone knew that the motto of the families was "you put one of mine in the hospital, I put one of yours in the morgue," but nothing on this scale. A threat like this was exactly how the families started killing each other and everyone else got caught in the crosshairs.

"Yeah well we're going to be smart and stay ahead of this," Ivy said, sounding far too confident for someone who'd just said that there was a bloodbath the horizon. "I'm coming over and I'm bringing booze. After the couple of days we've had, I think we deserve it."

"Sounds good," Selina said, and hung up.

"Who was that?" Wayne asked, obviously trying not to look curious.

"A friend. I have to go."

"So soon?"

"It's been almost four hours," Selina said, checking her watch. Shit. If Ivy had just showed up at her place without calling ahead there would have been hell to pay. "Thank you for destroying one of your father's most valuable possessions, but I have to be getting back." Pulling on the jacket she'd discarded, Selina started out of the room. She froze when Wayne grabbed her hand.

"Come back tomorrow? We can work on the car some more."

"We'll see," Selina said. "I have your number." Halfway out the door she turned and kissed Wayne on the cheek. "I like us when we're not real."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little late (for the record I'm trying to post either every Thursday or Friday) but midterms kicked my ass this week. Hope you all enjoyed!


	17. Drinks and a Funeral

Selina made it back to her apartment before Ivy, but it was close. The sun was setting when Ivy rang the bell.

"I raided the liquor store," Ivy said, shaking a bottle when Selina opened the door. "Don't worry I paid cash."

"You're nineteen," Selina said, raising an eyebrow.

"I look twenty-three," Ivy replied. "And the cashier owes me a favor."

"Half the town owes you a favor." Selina said, shutting and locking the door behind her. "And _that_ is a very big bottle." A very big bottle of what looked like whiskey.

"It's been a tough week for the criminal elite," Ivy said with a shrug, twisting off the cap and taking a swig. Selina winced; she never knew how Ivy could drink it straight like that. Selina was no stranger to alcohol, but Ivy's tolerance – and her liver – was legendary. "Have you taken your dose today?"

With everything that had happened with Wayne, Selina had forgotten. "Can I have both at the same time?"

"Please, you think I'd make you something you can't mix with booze?" Ivy said, scoffing. "Hurry up and take your meds because you are quickly falling behind and I am not waiting for you to catch up."

"Yeah right," Selina said, tying a makeshift tourniquet around her arm like she had every day since Ivy had mixed up the anti-venom. "You're a head-and-a-half taller than me. If I try to keep up with you, I'll die." Wincing like she always did, she found a vein and pumped her blood full of the clear liquid. "How long to I have to keep doing this?"

"Until I tell you to stop," Ivy said, drinking straight from the bottle again. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm taking it too." Ivy pulled up her sleeve, revealing punctures identical to the ones that covered the skin of Selina's inner arm. "Babe, drinking alone is crazy depressing, so you need to get started."

"Fine," Selina said, taking the bottle from her. " _Na Zdorovie_."

Selina was a lightweight. She always had been. It was probably due to the fact that she was just over five feet tall and barely weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. That being said, it didn't take much for her to be dancing around her living room, bouncing on the couch, and singing to old pop songs at the top of her voice. Not exactly covert, but Selina was having a hard time caring about keeping a low profile when the room was spinning and the whole world seemed to be super-saturated with color. Ivy was in the same boat, though she'd almost drunk two-thirds of the bottle all on her own.

" _Cause I'm Mr. Brightside_!" Selina sang loudly before flopping onto the couch and watching the ceiling pinwheel above her. "I don't remember learning the lyrics to that song," she said after a moment.

"Me either," Ivy agreed, giggling and laying her head on Selina's stomach. "It's magic. Our whole generation knows that song and no one knows how they know it. It's like Twilight Zone." Ivy cackled. "Picture if you will."

"Our whole lives are in the fucking Twilight Zone," Selina said, stroking Ivy's red hair. "Do you ever think about how crazy our world is? Soooooo crazy. You make poisons and I steal things for the mob." Selina snorted. "And now they're trying to kill me. _And_ Maroni is trying to kill me. Jesus."

"I forgot you were a weepy drunk," Ivy said, pouting. Selina flicked her. "Ow! I take it back. You're a mean drunk."

"I am not!" Ivy snickered and they both fell silent for a moment. "I am a fun drunk. And you're so lucky, you know that?"

"What, because I have less people trying to kill me?"

"Because you have Harley. She's normal. And she's smart. And really, really pretty."

"Are you jealous, pookie?" Ivy said, reaching up to pinch her cheek. "You know that you're my girl."

"I'm not jealous, I'm happy," Selina said softly, trying not to slur. "She's your way out, V. Do you love her?" Ivy was silent for a long time before answering. She took another swig of whiskey and picked at her nails, and Selina wasn't sure if she'd fallen asleep before she finally spoke again.

"I love her. Harley. I love Harley." Ivy smiled, looking up at Selina, a brilliant smile on her face. "I haven't said it out loud before. I'm in love, Selly. I'm in love with her."

"She's going to save you," Selina said, twirling Ivy's hair around her finger. "She's your out."

"Don't be stupid," Ivy said, closing her eyes and nuzzling her cheek against Selina's stomach. "We're in this together, like that singing high school movie thing. I'm not out unless you're out." She didn't say any more after that, quickly falling asleep. It didn't take long for Selina to follow suit, but not before thinking of Wayne. She was going to go back to the mansion, that much she knew for certain. Selina still didn't know what had changed, what had turned the distain and hatred for him into…whatever she was feeling. Maybe it was how dark and angry he became whenever she accidentally slipped and said something about her shit-show of a life. Maybe it was the fury in his eyes when he'd seen what Gerard had done to her face weeks ago. Maybe it was the fact that he always seemed ready to go to battle for her, even when she had done nothing but rob and threaten him. Even then, he'd still wanted to protect her. Besides Ivy, no one had ever cared what happened to her before. No one burned with righteous anger when she showed up bruised and battered. He had everything, he was the richest man in Gotham, and yet he was willing to risk his life for a girl who was worth nothing at all. Maybe that was it.

Maybe.

* * *

"Never again," Selina mumbled, shuffling into her kitchen in the morning. Ivy was perched on the counter, eating cereal out of a bowl Selina didn't know she had.

"Wow you look like shit," Ivy said, far too loudly for Selina's sensitive hearing.

"You're evil and I hate you," Selina grumbled.

"I made you coffee," Ivy said, holding out the mug like an olive branch. "It's a hangover remedy so if you complain about how it tastes I will kick you in the shins." Selina had to smile at that. Ivy had come a long way in hand fighting and she could do a hell of a lot worse than kick her in the shins at this point. "I know you don't eat breakfast and I'm shit at cooking anyway so." Selina took the mug and sipped it suspiciously, gagging on the taste before choking it down.

"It's awful, but you'll feel better in a half hour. Believe me, that bad boy has gotten me through some rough mornings."

"Next time you show up at my place with alcohol I'm slamming the door in your face."

"And then I'll drink it and throw up on your stoop."

"You're evil and I hate you," Selina said again, sticking her tongue out. Ivy laughed, eating her stolen cereal quietly for a few minutes.

"By the way, Harley and I are going out tonight to celebrate. She got into her PhD program."

"Tell her congratulations for me," Selina said, choking down another disgusting sip of coffee. Whatever Ivy had put into it was already working.

"Tell her yourself, you're coming with us." Selina raised an eyebrow. "We've been dating for almost six months, Sel, and you've never spent more than fifteen minutes together. I love her, and it's important to me that you love her too." Slowly, Selina put down the mug, touched.

"V, you haven't been this happy in years and it's because of her. I already love her for that."

"Jesus you're a sap," Ivy said after a moment.

"Get out," Selina said, grinning. "If you're going to be mean to me and get me drunk I want you out of my house." Ivy put her bowl and spoon into the dishwasher.

"I'll pick you up at eight," she said. "Look nice."

"Ew," Selina complained. "And you're the one on the date, not me. Text me an address and I'll meet you there."

"Whatever you say, boss lady," Ivy said, saluting her on the way out the door.

After finishing the rest of the disgusting coffee and a quick shower, Selina breezed out the door. If she was going out tonight, she needed a dress.

"Selina!" Oliver said, opening the door. "What a pleasant surprise. Come in, come in." Oliver and Manny's place was lovely. Small, but lovely. Manny wasn't much of a decorator, but Oliver had an eye for style and utilized every inch of the space available to them. "What can I do for you?" Selina stopped at the singular. He and Manny were attached at the hip and they had been for years. They were the couple that was so disgustingly in love that both of them referred to one another as "we," not "I." Never just "I."

"Ollie, what's wrong?" Selina said, searching his face for answers. "Oliver."

"It's Manuel," Oliver said softly. "He's sick."

"Sick like the flu?" Selina said, but the way Oliver's eyes dimmed told her that it was worse than that. "He's positive, isn't he." It wasn't a question and immediately Selina knew that she was right. She'd always been close to both of them, but never enough to pry into something as personal as their sex life. Certainly not to ask if they had HIV.

"We both are," Oliver said softly. "And we don't have insurance, so neither of us are taking anything for it. That's why I'm so compulsive about cleaning. But Manuel contracted something and…he's not doing well."

"Can I see him?" Selina asked softly.

"Of course," Oliver said, leading her into a bedroom in the back of the apartment. "Manny? There's someone here to see you. I'll give you two some privacy."

" _Hola Manuel_ ," Selina said, stepping inside. The whole room was had been painstakingly cleaned, and Manny was half-propped up on pillows in the bed. He looked awful; his skin was waxy and yellowish, and the veins in his neck and arms were so vivid it was like they were painted on his skin.

"Alleycat," Manny said, the corners of his lips turning up in the parody of a smile. "You look good. Wish I could say the same for me."

"Ah, come on, you're as handsome as ever." Selina said, sitting on the corner of the bed. "I'm sorry I haven't visited in a while. If I'd known…"

" _Oye_ , _esta bien_ ," Manny said quietly. "Oliver and I decided not to tell anyone. You couldn't have known."

"What can I do?" Selina said, reaching for his hand. "There's got to be something. Money, medication, _something_."

"At this point, all we can do is wait it out," Manny said, giving a tiny shrug. "Chances are, I'm going to fine. Oliver's freaking out, but he's always been high strung. This'll pass." He was lying, Selina realized, her heart squeezing in her chest. He knew that he wasn't going to make it through this.

"Let me call Ivy. She can make something for you, you know she's good at this kind of thing and – "

"Alleycat," Manny said, cutting her off. Selina bit her lip, feeling tears starting to prick the corners of her eyes. "Stop. At this point, I either fight it off or I don't. Not even Ivy can cook up something that'll save me now if I can't save myself."

"Manny, I am so sorry."

"Hey, don't worry about me. Where I'm going, people like us don't have to watch over our shoulders, or worry about getting shot in the back. Just…" Manny faltered for a moment. "Take care of Ollie for me, will you? He's not good at being alone."

"You're going to take care of him," Selina said, squeezing his hand and biting her lip so hard that she could taste blood. "Because you're going to be fine, like you said."

"I'm going to be fine," Manny agreed halfheartedly. They sat in silence for a while, until Selina couldn't take it anymore. She just couldn't stand it, watching him lay here, making promises to live when they both knew he was lying.

"I'll come back tomorrow," Selina said. "And you call me if you need anything. Manuel, I'm not kidding. You've pulled my ass from the fire enough times."

"Let me do it one more time," Manny said, reaching into the desk drawer beside him. "Take this."

"What is it?" Selina asked, eying the flash drive in his hand.

"It's a virus, and it'll erase you off of video camera feeds. We can't have you on camera visiting your billionaire boyfriend, can we?" Selina's mouth dropped open and Manny smiled.

"Just take it, Sel." Selina closed her hand around the USB drive.

"Thank you."

"He's looking better," Oliver said when Selina left the room. "I know he's happy to see you, even if that grump didn't say it." He smiled but it was ringed with pain. "What can I do for you? Didn't you come for something?" Selina tried to just leave, but Oliver wouldn't have it, insisting on finding the perfect dress for her. It was gorgeous; green and sparkly, something Ollie insisted on. He offered to do her makeup, but Selina declined, old instincts insisting that she run away as fast as she could.

In the end, Selina didn't need to wear it.

Manuel Ramirez died at seven-sixteen that night, only six hours after Selina had visited him. He passed quietly, without any kind of a fuss, leaving behind no family except for his boyfriend Oliver Peters. There wasn't a funeral, but Selina and Ivy paid for Manny to be buried in a small cemetery just outside of the Narrows. He was close to home now, and Oliver could visit. Selina chose to think that that's what Manny would have wanted. And she did wear the dress eventually, at the small ceremony Oliver held after the burial. Ollie had demanded that no one wear black. It was a celebration of life, and besides, Oliver's pale skin and fair hair looked catastrophic when he wore black, he said. Selina tried to give the dress back to him, but Oliver wouldn't take it. Something about it suiting her better than it ever had suited him.

"You okay?" Ivy asked, finding Selina sitting outside Oliver's apartment.

"I'm fine."

"You're lying."

"V, I'm not the one who just lost the love of their life. Go support Ollie."

"He loved you too, you know," Ivy said softly, touching Selina's shoulder. "They both did. Ollie still does."

"I should've known he was sick," Selina said, mostly to herself. "I only ever called them when I needed something. A bug, a dress, something forged. They're my friends. Manny is – Manny _was_ – he was important to me and the only time I ever called them was when I needed something." Selina buried her head in her hands, guilt and loathing roiling in her stomach, threatening to choke her.

"Selina, you know that's not true. This is how we have to live. It doesn't make you a bad person." Selina looked away from her, silently disagreeing. If she hadn't been so selfish, if she hadn't thought of only herself, if she'd gone to visit her goddamn friends once in a while…Maybe she'd have known that Manny was sick. Maybe she could have afforded medicine that could've saved him.

"I have to go," Selina said, unable to sit still any longer.

"Sel, you can't just leave."

"Tell Oliver I'm sorry. Tell him that I wish things could be different, but I have to go." Deaf to Ivy's protests, Selina stood and all but ran away from the apartment. She didn't know where she was going; she just knew that she had to get away from there.

She ended up on the Hill. And for once, she didn't break in.

"Miss Selina?" Alfred said, concern passing over his features as he opened the door to see her. She must've looked like a wreck, standing there on the front steps in a dress loaned to her by a man who's life had just ended with Manny's He ushered her inside and Selina followed him numbly to the office. Of course Wayne was in there.

"Selina?" Wayne said, standing up. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," she said, looking everywhere but at him. She didn't know what she would see in his eyes and she couldn't deal with pity right now, not when she was already so close to tears. "I just didn't know where to go."

"What happened? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Remember…" Selina tried, her voice faltering.

"Hey," Wayne said, catching her hand. "Talk to me, it's okay."

"Remember how I said…I said that real was going to get me killed? Real killed one of my friends."

"Oh shit, Selina. I'm so sorry. What can I do?" Selina didn't answer, and didn't protest when he pulled her into a hug, his arms tight around her. "What can I do?" he asked again, stroking her hair.

"Just don't be real," Selina whispered against his chest. "I can't take real right now."

"Not real," Wayne said. "I promise." Selina shuddered, biting her lip and trying to keep the tears from flowing. She was safe here, with him. This wasn't the Narrows, and he wasn't Manny. He wasn't real, he was safe.


	18. Turning Point

Bruce had no idea how long they stood there, with her head nestled under his, but he didn't push her away. Selina had never, not once, seemed breakable to him, but suddenly he was terrified that if he let go of her, she'd shatter. Eventually, she stepped away from him, hugging her arms around her chest like she was trying to hold herself together.

"Jesus," she said, refusing to look at him. "I'm sorry. I'm a mess."

"It's okay," Bruce said, wanting to hold her again, but he was afraid that she'd run away if he tried. "I'm glad you came. I was worried when you…" Bruce trailed off, suddenly embarrassed. He was worried that she hadn't called. He'd been doing research on the reaper shooting since she left, and had reached out to the GCPD. So far no one claimed responsibility, but word had it that Falcone was furious. And there were whispers that Maroni had been involved with the bombing on White Hill, too. None of the Blakes were home, thank God, but still, it didn't make sense. Why would Maroni take out Falcone's thieves and a member of Gotham elite? Whatever the reason, Bruce had been worrying himself sick, not that he wanted to come out and tell her that. "What happened?" Finally Selina looked at him, her eyes even more startlingly green and swimming with tears. "Shit, I'm sorry, that was stupid." Bruce could have kicked himself. They had a deal, and he was breaking it by asking too many questions.

"No," she said softly, her voice half-strangled. "It's okay." She took a shuddering breath. "My friend died. It wasn't violent or anything…he got sick. And he – we – can't exactly go to hospitals. So he just died. He was twenty-eight, and now he's gone." Bruce didn't know what to say. What could he say, in the light of something like that?

"Can you tell me his name?"

"Manuel. Everybody called him Manny…everyone except for Oliver." She paused, and a ghost of a smile crossed her face. "Oliver was his boyfriend, and you have them to thank for me getting into your party." Bruce started. He'd all but forgotten about that in light of everything that had happened. How could he forget?

"Damn, they must be good."

"The best," Selina said fondly. "And now Ollie is all alone."

"Well he's got you, doesn't he?" Bruce tried, anything to get the look of despair off of her face.

"You'd think that." Shit. Bruce didn't know what he'd said, but somehow he had made it worse. How the hell had he managed to make it worse? "I didn't even know he was sick until the day he died. And I wouldn't have known, if I hadn't gone over because I needed something." Her voice sounded strangled and Bruce didn't know what to say, too worried about making her even more upset. She mumbled something under her breath, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. "I need to change. Jeeves has still got a stash of the stuff he bought for me, right?" Bruce didn't know, but she was already moving. Bruce didn't follow. He had a pretty good idea where she would go.

"I started without you," Selina said when Bruce finally made it into the garage. The holoscreen had already been activated and she'd flipped open the hood of a Porsche next to the Ferrari, no doubt to scavenge for parts. "Sorry."

"You should eat something," Bruce said, tossing her a Hershey bar he'd nabbed from the kitchen. Eighteen years and Alfred still thought that Bruce didn't know where he kept the sweets. If the old man had one weakness, it was sugar. Selina caught it without looking. "I think I like your real clothes better." That wasn't to say that she hadn't looked absolutely gorgeous in the green dress, she had. He'd forgotten how to breathe when Alfred had shown her into the office. But the fingerless gloves, old-school jackets, and messy, pulled-back hair seemed more…Selina.

"Well I'm not much of a getaway artist in a dress," Selina replied, stowing the chocolate in her back pocket. "And the shoes are a bitch. Give me a wrench and combat boots over a dress and heels any day." Her words were short and clipped and she never looked at him once. She was grieving. Bruce knew what that was like; when his parents had died, he'd refused to look anyone in the eye for weeks. His parents had been taken from him in an act of violence, and Selina no doubt had plenty of experience with that. But this…she said that he hadn't been able to get the medication he'd needed, and that's why he'd died. Bruce couldn't imagine it, being so afraid to go to a hospital that dying of something preventable was the better alternative. Not for the first time, he marveled about how little he knew about Selina's world. Ever since she'd crashed into his life Bruce had seen Gotham differently, but somehow he'd still pictured all criminals like Selina. Smart and capable, surviving no matter how the odds stacked against them. For all of his research on the criminal underbelly of the city and the families that ran them, he'd never thought of the side effects of living off of the grid. People like Selina's friend could just go missing, just up and die one day, and only a handful of people would notice that they were even gone. That was the world that she lived in, not the strange, glamorized version he'd managed to conjure in his mind. Because despite everything he'd seen, Bruce still had no idea how she'd managed to live this long on her own, living the way she did.

One thing he did know was that he wouldn't survive a day out there.

"Do me a favor," Selina said after nearly an hour of working on the car in silence. Bruce didn't mind, but he was relieved that she'd started speaking again. "Plug this into your hard drive."

"What is it?" Bruce asked, catching the thumb drive she tossed his way.

"It's a bug for your security system. It'll keep me off of any video footage, in case something happens and the police subpoena it or someone hacks in."

"Did you write this?"

"No. I'm a thief, not a hacker. But if something goes wrong, you don't want evidence of a criminal in your house." Bruce hated it when she did that. Called herself a criminal, trying to prove how different they were. He _knew_. God, he knew. But every time, she still insisted on throwing up that wall, making sure that he understood that he had no place in her world. And now this.

"You don't have to do that. No one's looking for you here, you're safe." I'm not ashamed of you, Bruce wanted to say, but he knew that she wouldn't respond well.

"You're not," Selina said, leaning into the engine so her words were muffled. "Whatever it is that's going on here, whatever this is, you're in more danger than I am. This isn't for me."

"I don't want it." He didn't want to erase her existence, not even from something as meaningless as video footage.

"I don't care." Selina said, standing upright and glaring at him. "Manny made the bug for me, because he's the one who got me in here before. He was _dying_ , Wayne, and he was still looking out for me. He knew that you were important to me – " Selina bit her lip like she always did when she though she'd said too much and closed her eyes for a moment before speaking again. "He was my family. And one of his last acts on this earth was to make this to keep me safe. To keep _us safe_. So I don't care if you want it or not, plug the damn thing into your hard drive."

"Fine," Bruce said, pocketing the drive. "Your friend knew that you were coming here?"

"He got me into the gala," Selina explained. "And he let me into your system when I was trying to keep an assassin from killing you. Manny…he looked out for me."

"How long did you know him?" Bruce asked softly, not wanting to lapse into uncomfortable silence again.

"My whole life," Selina said, frowning. "Manny's the one who pulled us…pulled me out from under the bridge. He set me up with a place to live and a way to make a living. I introduced him to Oliver. We took care of each other. And now he's gone." Bruce noticed the stumbled, heard the lie, but he didn't push it. He was more concerned with what she'd said about living under a bridge. Bruce knew that there were homeless camps there, but they were insanely dangerous. For the hundredth time, Bruce marveled at her ability to survive.

"Can you tell me what he was like?" Bruce asked, hesitating when he saw suspicion flash over her features. "I know it hurts, but talking about him will help." Bruce swallowed. "Believe me."

"I do believe you," she mumbled. "He was…" A real smile turned her lips up in the corners. "He was mean. He was one mean son of a bitch." Bruce stared. He hadn't been expecting that, but Selina's was still smiling. "For the first year I knew him, all he did was swear at me in Spanish and tell me to piss off. He was always yelling at me because I was always in trouble, and I think I only ever saw him smile maybe a dozen times in all the years I knew him." She paused. "But we were family. If I needed anything, I never had to ask."

"Like with the virus." Bruce interjected.

"Like with the virus," Selina agreed. "He took care of me. But then I got _good_. I got so good that…certain people noticed me. And so did the police. I decided that I could live on my own. I decided that I didn't need him anymore. The only time we saw one-another was when I needed a favor. Which is what I doing the day he died. He saved my life, and I was so _goddamn_ selfish that I didn't even know he was dying." Selina paced, spinning the wrench in her hand like it was a baton. Bruce was struck by the image of her defending herself with it, backed against the wall with only a makeshift weapon to keep her safe. "Jesus what is wrong with me?" She turned to him, pointing at him with the wrench. "What's wrong with _you_?"

"What?" Bruce asked, blindsided by the question.

"I'm a mess. I'm a fucking disaster, and this is my life. Violence and dead friends and being so scared all the time that I feel like I'm having a heart attack every minute of every day. And somehow you haven't called the cops, or committed me. I know my damage. What the _hell_ is yours?"

"I guess…" Bruce said, faltering. "I'm a mess too." Bruce had always known that, but he'd never said it aloud before. "My parents, getting involved with the police so I could try and find my parents' killer…For Christ's sake, I was crazy enough to practically stalk the girl who broke into my house and almost slashed my throat."

"I was never going to kill you," Selina said, pulling her hair out of the ponytail and twirling it between her empty fingers.

"You could've fooled me." Bruce said, smiling ruefully. "But that's my point. Ever since my parents – ever since they died, I've been fatalistic." That's what the therapist he'd been ordered to go to in the months after the murder had said. 'Fatalistic, with self-destructive tendencies and no regard for his own safety.' "You want to talk about crazy? When there was an honest-to-God assassin in my house trying to kill me, the first thing I felt was excitement because I got to see you again. Then I proceeded to _run towards the guy trying to kill me_ because that's where you were. If anyone should be committed it's – " Bruce's words were cut short when the wrench clattered to the floor and then Selina's lips crashing against his. Bruce responded without hesitation, one hand cupping her face, the other traveling to Selina's waist. She wound her fingers through his hair, making a small, surprised noise when he bit her bottom lip. Still kissing her, Bruce put both hands around her waist – it was practically small enough to allow his fingers to touch – and Selina wrapped her legs around him, her mouth travelling to his neck. Now it was Bruce's turn to moan, maneuvering the two of them so that her back was against the wall.

They kissed until neither could breathe, until Selina was gasping against his mouth and he was gasping against hers.

"Don't run," Bruce said finally.

"What?" Selina asked breathlessly, her eyes somehow even greener. Maybe it was oxygen deprivation, Bruce thought absently, more preoccupied with the slight pout of her lower lip.

"You," he said, kissing the dimple that pleated her right cheek, "have a very bad habit of running away from me whenever something like this happens."

"I'm not running," Selina said, her voice ringing and clear, and Bruce's heart stuttered in his chest. "Besides, we've already established that you're the crazy one here," she said with a tiny smirk that lit up her whole face. She was teasing him. Of course she was. Selina never did what he expected, she never had. Bruce kissed her forehead once and carefully set her down, marveling at how tiny she really was.

"So what was that?" Bruce asked.

"Are you asking if it was good for me?" Selina said, teasing again. "Because you might be getting a little ahead of yourself."

"That is not what I was asking," Bruce said, feeling heat creeping up his neck that had nothing to do with kissing. "How does this qualify? Real or not real?"

"I don't care," Selina said after a moment. "But one of my oldest friends in the world died a few days ago, and I came here. I came to the mansion where I was held captive by someone who I should really, really hate."

"You wound me," Bruce said, but his words were light. He knew she was kidding.

"Shut up, I'm making a point. I don't know what it is about you Wayne…but I don't care if this is real or not, I want it." Bruce nodded, a warm feeling spreading through ...whatever this was, he wanted it too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but very important! Also I know I said I was trying to post on Friday's but it was Friday when I was working earlier and I haven't gone to bed so it's still Friday to me. Hope you all enjoyed and I'd love to hear what you think!


	19. Old Enemies, New Enemies

Selina had to go. And it wasn't because she was running away. But she'd disappeared from a funeral service and Ivy was no doubt looking for her. Selina had made her choice, she wasn't scared of this, but Ivy finding out was not an option. It was too much too fast. Sure, Ivy was in her own relationship with a civilian, and Harley was wonderful, but she wasn't the Prince of Gotham. Selina trusted Ivy with her life, but this was something she had to keep hidden, at least for now.

"I've gotta go. There will be people looking for me," Selina said by way of goodbye. Wayne raised an eyebrow.

"When you say things like that, it makes me very nervous."

"And while I appreciate the honesty, these aren't the scary people. Its only one person."

"Can you give me their name?"

"Her name's Ivy, and she is going to wonder where I've been." Selina said after the briefest hesitation. She wanted this, she'd told him so, and it wouldn't do any good to keep this from him. Besides, there were thousands of women named Ivy in the city.

"What are you going to tell her?"

"I'm going to make something up," Selina said pointedly. "I don't think you can handle more than one criminal in your life right now, and if you think I'm crazy, you have another thing coming."

"Seriously?" Wayne said, smiling a little now. Selina would never understand why telling him these things made him so happy, but every time she mentioned her life outside of Wayne Manor, he lit up.

It was cute.

"Believe me," Selina said, smiling herself now. "You haven't seen anything until you see Ivy's special brand of nuts. And part of that brand is suspicion bordering on paranoia, because, like you've said, I have a bad habit of running away." Selina didn't deny it. If it ever came down to a choice between standing her ground and saving her own skin, she would always choose to live.

She kissed him goodbye in the garage, insisting that she knew her way out. Selina didn't need to be walked to the door.

"Miss Selina," Alfred said, stopping her before she could slip out the back. Selina turned to him slowly, glaring the old butler down. Whatever she felt for Wayne, her affections didn't extend to Alfred. "If I may."

"It's your house, Jeeves," Selina said coolly.

"Don't you mean it's Master Wayne's house?" Alfred said with a wry smile.

"I think we both know better than that. What do you want."

"First to offer my apologies," Alfred said, surprising her. "I know that it was my curiosity that drove you away and I am sorry for it."

"I'm not interested," Selina said harshly. She had no doubt that he was sincere, but Selina was already putting her life on the line by being here. She wasn't willing to give up any more pieces of herself of satiate his curiosity. "Is that all?"

"No," Alfred said, his features carefully composed through Selina could tell that he was disappointed. "I also have this." He handed her an old brass key that hung on a metal chain. "If you will be visiting us often, I think you should have one."

"That's a little forward of you," Selina said offhandedly, inspecting the key. "And this doesn't match the front or back door." It was antiquated and too big for either of those locks.

"Quite right. This is an old house, and there are tunnels in the foundation that were used in the Underground Railroad. There's an entrance in a shed on the north side of the property. It leads into the basement of the manor." It was a good idea. Selina had been worried about people seeing her coming and going, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"And you ran this by Wayne?"

"I doubt that he will object if it is for your safety. He does worry about you, Miss Selina. We both do." Selina scowled, her eyes narrowing.

"I didn't need your apology and I don't need your concern," she said coldly. "I can take care of myself."

"Absolutely. But set an old man's mind at ease." Selina took the key and stashed it in her pocket. "If you wish, I could show you the entrance now."

"I'll pass. I've got places to be." Without another word, Selina showed herself out. She was being cold and she knew it, but Selina was there for Wayne, not to become best buds with his doorman.

Thankfully, Ivy wasn't waiting for her at home. Selina was exhausted, and lying to Ivy wasn't something she wanted to do. At least not tonight. The thought of keeping things from her made Selina's chest pang with guilt.

It had been a long day. Selina didn't waste any time, flipping on the television in the living room and going straight to bed. With the nightly news providing soft ambient noise, she quickly fell asleep.

And woke to someone banging on her door. Three knocks, a pause, then two more, a code she and Ivy had established years ago.

"I don't know if anyone told you, but thieves are nocturnal," Selina said, answering the door in a sports bra and pajama shorts.

"It is one in the afternoon," Ivy said humorlessly, pushing into the apartment.

"Which is why I'm surprised you're up," Selina replied, closing the door and trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes. "Where's the fire?" Ivy was pacing and antsy, even more so than usual.

"He's out," Ivy said through clenched teeth. "Jerome's out." Selina's blood went cold and suddenly she wasn't tired anymore. It was like when Alfred had pounded on her chest, restarting her heart and sending blood pumping to her brain.

"Shit. Are you sure?"

"I've got a buddy at Blackgate who let me know. He was released on good behavior." Selina snorted.

"Good behavior my ass." Jerome was a nasty piece of work. He used to live in the local fairgrounds on the outskirts of Lee Park. The carnies were his family, so no one was surprised that he was a little twisted. Then again, no one thought that the circus boy who was a little more than messed up would go and off his own mom.

The grounds were a haven for young, up-and-coming criminals, so Selina and Ivy had spent a good chunk of time there a few years back. But the both of them had a history with the place – and Jerome – that went deeper than that. "Shit," Selina repeated, dragging her hand down her face. "I never thought we'd see that nutcase again." Ever since his arrest for the murder of his mother, Jerome had been bounced from jail cells and mental institutions. Until now that is. Selina had been monitoring Jerome's whereabouts since he was arrested, just keeping tabs out of the corner of her eye.

"You think?"

"What are we going to do?" Selina asked. "He never found out, did he?"

"God I hope not," Ivy said, winding her fingers through her hair anxiously. "Because if so, then you and I are in a whole new world of trouble."

"Speaking of," Selina said, hearing her phone ring. It wasn't a number she recognized, but Selina had a bad feeling and answered anyway. "Hello?"

"Selina. I was told I could reach you on this number."

"Ah, Mr. Cobblepot," Selina said and Ivy's eyes went wide. "I'm glad you called this time."

"Well when I drop in unannounced you have a tendency to slice up my men, and I'd like to keep them intact for the moment."

"What can I do for you?" Selina said, quickly getting to the point. Men like Oswald Cobblepot didn't make social calls.

"As you might have heard, a young man named Jerome was released from prison." Selina bit her lip to stifle a groan. Speak of the fucking devil and he shalt appear, wasn't that the way it always went?

"Put it on speaker," Ivy hissed and Selina nodded, putting her finger to her lips and pressing the speaker button.

"This is Gotham," Selina said cavalierly. "Lots of people are in prison, that means lots of people get released."

"Yes, but there's something special about this one. If I'm not mistaken, you two are of a similar age. I'd like you to bring him in." Jesus Christ, bring him in? The Penguin sounded like something out of a bad spy movie. "I think Mr. Maroni would find him very useful."

"You mean that you and Gerard think so," Selina said, a weight settling on her chest.

"Oh no, I think it best that my business partner not know about this little venture."

"I'm not Maroni," Selina reminded him. "I can't just waltz onto your side of town without getting a bullet in the head."

"You may not be Maroni," the Penguin said, his voice taking on a hard edge, "but you work for me, Selina. Let's not forget that just a whisper from me to any one of your Falcone friends, and you will have nowhere to hide. Even if our arrangement goes south, Gerard and I have protection. Can you say the same?" Ivy swore and Selina had to snatch the phone and hold it to her ear to keep him from hearing.

"What do you want?"

"For you to facilitate a meeting. Mr. Maroni has been interested in young Jerome for some time. I'll text you a location and you'll bring him there. Complete the assignment, and you'll be paid very well. I understand that he's a bit of a firecracker." Cobblepot had no idea.

"Send me the information. What's the timetable?"

"I think today will do nicely. I'll see you in a few hours." Cobblepot hung up and Selina swore violently, whipping the phone across the room.

"He wants you to _bring Jerome to Maroni_?" Ivy screeched. "Does he know that kind of crazy Jerome's got running around in that creepy head of his?" Probably. Now that Selina thought about it, there was a very good chance that Cobblepot knew exactly what had happened between her and Jerome four years ago and was using it as an excuse to bury her. But she didn't have a choice. If she didn't do this, she was dead. And if she did, there was a very good chance that Jerome would kill her anyway. If he knew, anyway. Which was possible, but Selina honestly wasn't sure. She hadn't ever expected to see the psycho ever again, let alone try to recruit him for one of the families. And not even the one she worked for.

"I better get changed," Selina said, hearing her phone ring once for a text message.

"Changed?" Ivy repeated, arching an eyebrow.

"If he does know what we did, I think it's best that I don't look like the raggedy fourteen year old he remembers." The last time he'd seen her, Selina had been a tiny string bean of a teenager, wearing baggy, patched clothing that hung off of her frame like loose skin. She'd just gotten into bona fide thieving, though most of her jobs were still car jackings. When she emerged from her room twenty minutes later, there was no trace of that skinny fourteen year old.

"Damn girl," Ivy said, whistling. "When did you learn how to dress yourself?"

"Oliver taught me," Selina said. "Fish too." Fish had been moaning over the state of her wardrobe since they met, and insisted on taking Selina shopping. Selina had pushed back at first, but it seemed like the swanky clothes were about to pay off.

Her hair, usually a wild dirty-blonde bird's nest, was combed, falling in neat waves to her shoulders. The baggy clothes were gone, replaced by a thin black T-shirt and an old leather jacket, matched with jeans and short boots with the smallest of heels. Fashionable, but functional enough that she could stash several weapons and still make a clean getaway. "You'd be surprised how many places you can just waltz right into when you don't look like a gutter rat." Selina said, laughing at the incredulity on Ivy's face.

"Babe, I know I've said this before, but you're hot." Ivy said, looking her up and down.

"Your approval means everything to me," Selina said, sticking out her tongue.

"The outfit is good, but let me fix your makeup," Ivy offered. Quickly, she sat Selina down, drawing a black line over the top of her eyelids and thickening her lashes with mascara. Ivy handed her some dark red lipstick and stood back, looking pleased. "Wow. You look like a person."

"And you're a brat. Now I have to go court a mother-murdering sociopath and hope he doesn't kill me on sight."

"I'm coming with you." Ivy said, hanging Selina the phone she'd thrown across the room.

"Absolutely not," Selina said quickly. "If he knows, then we're both in danger and I'm not letting him have a shot at both of us. I'm not much of a believer in 'two birds, one stone.'"

"Where are you going? The Penguin very conveniently didn't let you know where he'd be."

"Come on. If you were him, where would you go?"

"The fairgrounds," Ivy said. "Oh God, I didn't think we'd ever have to go back there."

"You don't have to go back, I do. I'll be home in a few hours."

"Take this," Ivy said, pushing a syringe into her hand. "If anything happens, you jam this into his neck and run. It'll put him out and we can make a plan from there."

"I'm not going to need it," Selina said, with certainty she didn't feel.

"Sel, remember that little chat we had about you not being allowed to die before I do? Just don't be a pain in the ass for once and take it, okay? If you're going to have a chat with the psycho, you might as well be armed."

"Fine," Selina conceded. "And I'm always armed." She pulled her sleeves down, revealing two knives pressed against the skin of her inner arms. "You like?" Selina had been working on the sheaths for a while now, tinkering and tweaking so that with a twist of her wrist the knives were deposited into her hands. "And before you ask, I stole the design from Assassin's Creed." Selina had made some adjustments so that the knives were actually released as opposed to just sticking out of her sleeves, but the concept was the same.

"They're awesome. Be safe, you nerd."

The fairgrounds were the same as Selina remembered: Old, windswept, and half-abandoned. How the circus has survived this long was beyond her. If the cash flow was as bad as it looked, the place should have gone under years ago.

"You know," Selina said loftily, spotting an unpleasantly shock of familiar ginger hair by one of the tents. "Most people wouldn't come back to the circus. Even people who've been in prison for as long as you have." Jerome turned around to face her and Selina felt her stomach churn unpleasantly. He'd been a creepy, scrawny teenager the last time she'd seen him, but he'd grown up a lot since then. Prison had filled him out, and he'd grown to well over six feet. Suddenly, Selina was glad for Ivy's syringe in her pocket.

"I know you," Jerome said, and for half a second, Selina might have believed that he was normal. Then he smiled, showing teeth, and it looked like his face was splitting in half. Selina had forgotten how much she hated his smile. It made his skin look tight and waxy, like he was wearing a mask. A horrifying carnival mask where there should have been a young man's face. "Miss Alleycat, all grown up. For a skinny kid, you got pretty."

"You're not looking too bad yourself," Selina said, cursing for the thousandth time for going by that moniker when she was fourteen. It didn't look like he was going to snap, but Selina had seen firsthand how quickly his temper could explode. "So tell me, how was Blackgate? I here that they've got my number down in that hellhole."

"Not as bad as it could be. It was the psych ward at juvie that was the real bitch." The smile lessened and Selina was reminded of how well he could intimidate a real person. Jerome had been seventeen when they'd taken him in, and had spent a year in juvenile detention before he killed a fellow inmate out of the blue, spent the rest of his time in a padded room, and then was transferred to Blackgate when he turned eighteen. Not unlike what had happened to Ivy, now that Selina thought about it. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this? Not to see little old me, surely."

"You missed a few things while you were doing time," Selina said, inspecting her nails, the essence of calm. "You've heard of reapers, yes?" For his part, Jerome's eyes went wide. It was a very human reaction, and he was excellent at faking it.

"Little Selina, the car jacker, working as an elite thief? Color me impressed. Although I can't say that I'm surprised. You were always very good at this."

"So were you." For a distorted psychopath, he was very good at pretending not to be. Until he lost it and murdered someone in cold blood. Which didn't seem like it was about to happen, but you never knew. "And reapers don't just steal. We're messengers of sorts, and in high demand." Selina swallowed hard, thinking of her people gunned down in the street. "You might have heard that it's open season."

"If you're a messenger, then what's your message?"

"Someone wants to meet with you. They've got a job opportunity for you."

"And you think I should take it."

"I don't have an opinion on that," Selina said lightly. "I'm being paid to bring you in. What you choose to do after that is up to you." Selina wanted to roll her eyes, hearing the words leave her mouth. Now she was sounding like something out of a bad spy flick.

"Did you prepare that speech?" Jerome asked, smiling horribly. "It's very James Bond. Does that make you a Bond Girl?"

"No, that would be you. If anyone's Bond, it's me." Selina turned and started to walk away. She knew that Jerome would follow. He was fresh out of prison and needed shelter and a means of supporting himself. Besides that, he was curious. And so Jerome followed her, a little behind but not enough to be suspicious, until they reached the location that Cobblepot had sent her. The small, nondescript coffee house was within walking distance of the circus grounds, and Selina wanted to get this over with as fast as possible.

"Interesting," Jerome said, seeing the Penguin waiting for them inside. "I thought you were a Falcone girl, Selina."

"Free agent. With all the shit going down with the families lately, it's safer not to be attached."

"Ah Jerome," Cobblepot said, sipping his tea and looking pleased. "I have heard so much about you. Please, sit down." He looked up at Selina, smiling. "Thank you, my dear. A deposit will be made the usual way."

"Great to see you Jerome," Selina lied. "Enjoy being on the outside. Oh," she said, staring the Penguin down. "Before I go, quick question."

"Ask away."

"Who ordered the hit on the reapers?" It was a long shot that he'd even answer, but it had been eating at Selina. If Maroni had put the hit out, Cobblepot would know.

"I'm afraid you're not going to like the answer," he said, the smile turning unpleasant.

"I don't like my people being shot at."

"It was Falcone. For reasons we have yet to understand, Falcone put the hit out on his own men. The bombing of some of his most valuable fiscal partners was less than twenty-four hours after that, if I'm not mistaken." Selina blinked, trying to understand. She considered herself a professional liar, and thought that she was pretty good at spotting one. But Cobblepot wasn't lying. But this was too much. What was he saying? That the bombing and the hit were related? "You look distressed, Selina. There's a frown on that pretty face of yours." The Penguin turned back to Jerome. "I hope you don't mind us, I'm afraid we're being terribly rude."

"No, keep going." Jerome said eagerly. "This is the most interesting thing to happen today. I could use a laugh." Selina wanted to stab him and Ivy's syringe was growing warm in his pocket.

"What are you saying?" Selina said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, I'm not saying anything," Cobblepot said, lacing his fingers together. "But what I know for sure is that Mr. Maroni had no part in killing your people. And I'm just suggesting the interesting coincidence that one of the richest families in Gotham – one that has been laundering money for Falcone for years – was attacked the next day." Selina reeled. She'd been told that the attacks were Maroni, that Falcone was going to protect them…but if Cobblepot was telling the truth, and Selina could swear that he was –

The city had been preparing for a war between the families for years. But now the first shots had been fired, and Falcone had been the one to fire them. On his own people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I was going to post on Fridays, but this sort of wrote itself and I got really excited and so here it is. Maybe I'll have another one up Friday too, if the fanfiction gods smile down on me.


	20. Scars

As soon as she was far enough away and confident that no one was following her, Selina pulled out her phone, dialing Ivy's number.

"How was the freak?" Ivy said, sounding way too cheerful for the darkness that suddenly seemed to permeate everything.

"Still freaky," Selina said shortly. "V, listen up because I've got to dump this phone. Cobblepot said…he insinuated that Falcone is the one who ordered the hit on the reapers. Not Maroni."

"What."

"I think he's telling the truth," Selina said, inhaling deeply through her nose. "Which means that Falcone was the one who's killing us."

"How do you know he's not trying to pull something on you?" There was an edge to Ivy's voice now. Selina swore, wishing for the thousandth time that Ivy didn't question everything and would just believe her. They didn't have time for this, they had to get answers _now_ , or their life expectancies were going to plummet.

"I just do, Ivy. He wasn't lying. I need you to call in favors, every favor you can, because if we're in the middle if a war, our odds of getting out alive aren't good." Hers especially. She was playing for both sides, which meant that she wouldn't find shelter anywhere if everything went south.

"You're sure?"

"Can you hear the shaking in my voice? That's panic. I'm panicking Ivy, because I picked Falcone to win in this dogfight, and he turned on us."

"I'll make some calls. Come home."

"I will. But first I have some of my own contacts to get in touch with." Selina hung up, dropping the burner onto the ground and stomping on it with her heel. She'd pick up another one later, but for now she had to get the Wayne Manor.

Selina knew where the shed was on the grounds from first heist and quickly twisted the key into the lock. It gave easily – someone had oiled it recently and Selina's money was on Alfred – and she climbed inside. The tunnels were one-way and easy to follow, and Selina found herself in the basement within minutes. Part of her didn't know why she was here. But if Falcone had started the war by taking out his own people to implicate Maroni then there weren't a lot of places she could go. Wayne had money and resources and contacts within the police department that she didn't have access to. She needed him. And somehow, the thought didn't make her sick to her stomach.

"Miss Selina?" Alfred said, his eyes widening a fraction when he saw her stalking through the halls. "I'm glad you found the back way in but I did expect that you'd call."

"No time Jeeves and my phone's busted. I need to talk to Wayne."

"Now is not a good time, Miss Selina," Alfred hedged, trying to cut her off. Selina ducked around him as he tried to block her. "You really shouldn't go in there, it's not a good – " Selina pushed past him into the office and stopped dead in her tracks. Wayne was inside. So was someone else. A badge-wearing, gun-toting someone.

"Shit," Selina swore, turning on her heel. Detective Jim Gordon stared at her for a moment before his eyes flashed with recognition. His hand flew to his hip and Selina twisted her wrists without thinking, falling into a defensive position and holding her knives ready. What the hell was he doing here? Gordon was supposed to be one of the good ones, but Falcone and Maroni both had players inside the GCPD and Selina didn't know who to trust anymore.

"Knife!" Gordon shouted, pulling out his gun and shoving Wayne behind him. Selina spat another curse, staring him down. She didn't like her chances in a gunfight, but she'd had worse odds and come out on top.

"Oh, put those away, both of you," Alfred said, placing himself squarely in between Selina and Gordon, blocking her line of sight.

"Jesus Christ Selina, what are you _doing_?" Wayne demanded.

"You know her?" Gordon asked, looking incredulous.

"Yes, I know her," Wayne said. "Selina, please put those away."

"Him first," Selina ground out.

"I'm an officer of the law, and you could be brought up on charges for threatening me," Gordon reminded her. "You're the criminal here."

"Yeah, well criminals are getting gunned down in cold blood lately so you'll excuse me if I'm a little jumpy." And what had the cops been doing about it? Nothing. They didn't give a damn about what happened to any of her people. "How do I know you're not working for the families?"

"Working for the…" Gordon repeated, dumbstruck. "Are you crazy?"

"Please. Cops in this city are worse than scum. They'd follow Satan into hell if they were paid well enough."

"He's clean," Wayne assured her. "Selina, he's clean. I promise. Just put the knives away. You're safe here I promise."

"Holster your sidearm as well, Detective Gordon," Alfred said lightly. "Miss Selina is our guest and I will not have her feeling ill-at-ease." Selina bristled at Alfred defending her, but Gordon slowly lowered his gun and she stowed her knives.

"Are you okay?" Wayne asked, crossing the room and touching her shoulder. Selina glared at him, suspicion and concern waging war in her mind.

"No." Selina said shortly. "But I don't talk to cops."

"Well that's not true." Gordon said coolly.

"Want to run that by me again?" Selina growled, feeling her stomach bottom out.

"I'm sure you remember a certain axe-murderer named Jerome?" Selina flinched at the name and stepped back from him. He'd somehow turned Wayne's office into an interrogation room and she needed to get out of there. "He got out today. Any chance that's why you're so antsy? You were the one who turned him in."

"You're mistaken." Selina said obstinately.

"I don't think I am. It was a while ago, but I remember you, Selina. I thought I did back all those weeks ago at the orphanage, but I couldn't be sure. Now I am." Selina wanted to scream. Of fucking course he remembered. The one cop in the city who knew she was a snitch was buddy-buddy with her billionaire…whatever Wayne was…and now he had her name too.

"Fuck off," Selina spat. "What the hell are you even doing here?"

"I asked him here," Wayne said softly. Selina wanted to shake him. "He's a friend."

"Interesting friend you've got," Selina snapped.

"I could say the same." Gordon replied.

"I wasn't _talking to you_."

"Okay," Wayne said, positioning himself in front of her and holding her arms by her sides. "I know you don't like the police, but Jim's a friend of mine and he's here to help." Selina shot him an incredulous look. "I asked him to come so he could give me more information on the reaper shootings."

"He doesn't know about reapers," Selina hissed. "And wouldn't you guess it, we're a secretive bunch. There are two things we don't like. One: Being shot at. Two: _The GCPD_."

"Bruce is right, Selina," Gordon cut in. Selina spun around Wayne and he had to grab her wrist to keep her from flinging herself at the cop. She didn't know what was wrong with her. Maybe seeing Jerome was what was had her so on edge, but Selina desperately wanted to fight someone, anyone. Gordon just happened to be there. "Six kids were killed last week out of the blue. I'm trying to find out what happened to them." Selina wanted to scream curses at him, call him a liar. Cops didn't care what happened to them. They were just six fewer criminals to put in jail later. Six times less paperwork to file. "I'm not trying to fight you on this." Gordon said, meeting Selina's furious gaze. "I've seen your file." Selina gawked at him, her hatred burning anew.

"Bullshit."

"Before it mysteriously disappeared. I know what happened to you when you came in. And I know you still tried to do the right thing, despite what they did to you."

"Shut up." Selina snarled.

"Selina, what is he talking about?" Wayne asked, his voice tight. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

"Nothing." Selina snapped. "He's making things up."

"I'm not," Gordon said, not unkindly. "It was horrible and it was wrong and I'm sorry. But I am trying to help you."

"You want to help?" Selina asked, fury and fear raging inside her, making her stupid. "Then find out why Falcone is killing us!" She froze and clapped her hand over her mouth. She'd really done it now. It wasn't bad enough that a cop knew her name and her connection with Wayne, now he knew that she was Falcone. Worse, she'd given up sensitive information. She really was a snitch.

"You think Falcone killed his own people?" Gordon asked. "Why?"

"That's your job," Selina managed. "I'm just trying to stay alive."

"Jim," Wayne said softly and Gordon nodded, accepting whatever silent message had been passed between them.

"I'm going to get to the bottom of this." Gordon promised and Selina dodged away as he tried to pat her arm. _Touch me and I'll fucking kill you_ , she thought venomously, glaring daggers. "And this will stay between us."

"Thank you Jim," Wayne said, shaking his hand. "He's a good man," he said once Gordon was gone. "He won't say anything."

"He's a cop." Selina contradicted, folding her arms over her chest.

"What's going on?" Wayne asked. "What was he talking about?"

"I think Falcone is the one who killed the reapers and blew up the Blake's house. I…I came here because you have access that I don't." She laughed bitterly. "I know that you have contacts inside the police department. I just didn't expect one of them to be _here_."

"If I'd known you were coming, I would've warned you," Wayne said, his eyes shining with concern. "But Jim will look into it. We don't know anything for sure yet." No, but it made sense. There was no reason for Maroni to take out the reapers if he wanted to get to Falcone, but it Falcone was trying to start a war, well then… Reapers worked for both sides. They had access and skill and it would be in Falcone's best interest to get rid of them. And if he implicated Maroni at the same time then he was getting double the bang for his buck. "Who's Jerome?" he asked quietly, obviously trying not to spook her. It was a little late for that; Selina was well and truly spooked.

"Jerome's a kid I used to know," Selina said, suddenly too tired to lie. "Complete sociopath. He lived on the fairgrounds in Lee Park and Ivy and I spent a lot of time down there when we were younger. It was fun at first, we got to pretend like we were normal for a while. And then Jerome lost it. Killed his mom and tried to cover it up. He was going to get away with it, so I turned him in." It had been Selina's idea and she had never known if Jerome had found out. Ivy hadn't wanted to get involved, said that if anyone discovered that they'd snitched that they wouldn't survive a week. So Selina went in alone while Ivy kept watch outside the precinct. What Selina hadn't known at the time was that cops were looking for her in relation to a car-jacking. She'd been caught on a video camera, before she was good enough to stay out of sight. She had walked into the police station, not knowing that anyone would recognize her, and had been arrested on sight.

Selina had been stuck in a holding room for three days. She was fourteen and the officer who had taken her in had beaten the crap out of her. At first Selina thought that because she'd given up Jerome, the cop thought that she knew more. Maybe was an accomplice or something. But as the hours dragged on, it became clear. He was hurting her because he could. Because she was young, and a girl, and no one was coming to claim her. Or so he thought. Ivy broke her out on the third day and they'd managed to set a good chunk of precinct on fire before retreating.

She hadn't walked for three weeks after, and had nearly slipped into a coma as her body tried to recover from the injuries inflicted on her. Ivy and Manny had taken care of her, and when Selina had finally gotten back on her feet, she'd known, once and for all, that nothing good came from working with the cops. Not even the so-called good ones like Gordon. Trying to do the right things last time had almost gotten her beaten to death. She was never making the same mistake again.

"You made sure that a murderer went to prison," Wayne said. "That's not such a bad thing."

"No, but getting the shit beat out of me for three days solid kind of counts as a bad thing." Selina had gone back when she'd been better and destroyed her file. With Manny's help, she'd managed to erase herself off of every police server in the city. And the officer who'd hurt her had received a mysterious package that had exploded when he'd brought it inside, taking his hand and the right side of his face with it. Hell hath no fury like Ivy Pepper.

"How? How was that allowed to happen?" Wayne said sharply, his eyes tight and dark.

"It was a long time ago," Selina said, forcing the memories away. She had worked hard not to think about that and had succeeded for years. Some things were just better left buried.

"No, Selina, please don't shut me out like that."

"I don't want to talk about it," she replied, wrapping her arms around her stomach and dropping her gaze.

"Talk to me. Maybe I can do something about it, maybe I can fix it. Find the policeman, make sure he's held responsible – " Selina looked up at him, at this stupid, stupid boy who thought he could fix her, and she snapped. Her vision went red and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to throttle him.

"Fix it?" she said, her voice ratcheting through three octaves. "You can't fix this. _You_ can't fix any of this."

"Then tell me what I can do." Wayne said. "Because I can't stand sitting here and feeling so useless when you talk about all of this. I'm trying to help."

"Help." Selina repeated mockingly. "You're right. I needed help. When I was fourteen and I was trying to do the right thing and I got tortured by the police officers that your tax dollars keep employed." Barely breathing, Selina ripped off her jacket and hiked up her shirt, revealing the smooth pale of her stomach that was riddled with scars. Bye-bye bikini season. "I needed help when one of the men who swore to serve and protect gave me these." Wayne's eyes widened as he took in the mess of scar tissue on her body.

"He did this to you."

"Oh no. Not all of them." Selina said with a humorless laugh. "Some of them sure. Recovering from that was a really good time. For a while there, I thought that I would never walk again. But then again, I can't blame the cops for all of this. No, see that one," she traced a silvery line at her hip, "was from when a guy tried to rob me, and ended up stabbing me in the side." That was years ago, and terrifying. Selina had been coming back from a routine supplies run when some guy in a hoodie cornered her before she could get back to the camp underneath the overpass. She wasn't armed, and even if she had been, she hadn't known how to use a blade then anyway. So she'd given him everything she had and got a knife in the stomach for her trouble. Luckily, he wasn't aiming to kill. But a knife wound hurt whether you died from it or not. It was also the day that Selina had decided that she needed to arm herself.

Selina dropped her shirt and rolled up her sleeve, revealing an ugly, mottled patch of skin on her shoulder. "This is from when I got held up at gunpoint, and Ivy threw a water-balloon full of acid on the guy before he could shoot me. Great plan, unfortunately some of it got on me. That was fun too."

"Selina, I – "

"You can't fix me," she snapped. "You can't fix me, you can't take back anything that's happened to me."

"I'm not trying to fix you," Wayne said, still looking very pale.

"Good. Because I'm not broken. This is me, scars and all." Selina inhaled through her nose, rubbing her temples. There was a seed of guilt sprouting in her stomach at the horrorstruck look on Wayne's face. He was only trying to be supportive. Logically, she knew that. Selina was rattled, she was scared, and she had come here looking for some kind of solace, only to find a cop. So she'd lashed out, with good reason, although she was already beginning to regret it. "Look…" she started. Ivy always said that Selina was cool until she wasn't. Ivy's own temper might have always been bubbling right under the surface, but she got over it easily. Selina held anger closer to her chest, and when it escaped, she decimated anyone and anything in her way.

"I'm sorry," Wayne said, surprising her. Selina was the one trying to apologize. He wound his fingers through hers and pulled her close. Selina tucked herself into his arms, absently noting how she fit perfectly under his chin. "I know that there are things in your life that I can't begin to understand, but I'm trying. I just hate that this happened to you."

"I'm not to pleased about it either, believe me." Selina said wryly. "Although the acid burn makes for a good conversation starter. And it's good leverage when I want to make Ivy feel bad." Ivy still felt terrible about that, even though she'd saved Selina's life.

"Do you want to talk about all the shit that happened in the last half hour?" Wayne said after a long moment.

"No," Selina said. Gordon was going to look into the killings and Falcone, which was what she came here for in the first place. "I think we pretty much covered it."

"You're going to be fine," Wayne assured her, kissing the top of her head. "We're going to figure all of this out together, you're going to keep yourself alive, and if worse comes to worst, we kidnap Ivy and everyone you care about and stick them in the basement." Selina looked up at him, her eyes watering suddenly and a painful lump lodging itself in her stomach. "What?" Wayne asked, holding Selina away from him and studying her face. "What did I do?"

"You'd let us stay here?" Selina asked, her voice so soft it was almost a whisper.

"Anyone who's important to you is important to me. And if it gets bad, grab as many of your people as you can and we'll figure it out from there." Selina bit her lip, tears crowding the corners of her eyes, and threw her arms around his neck. "Whoa," Wayne said, catching her. "What's that for?"

"Thank you," Selina whispered into his neck. The whole world was going to shit, Falcone was killing his own people, Selina was a snitch and a traitor to both sides, and she was directly in the line of fire. But Wayne…he was here and he was willing to take all of this on, no questions asked. Her life was crumbling around her, but Selina couldn't help but think how lucky she was, in that moment, to have him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the fanfiction gods smiled upon me and I got this to you all in time. I also had a few hours to write/edit this afternoon on the train home. Lots of drama in this chapter, which I hope you all enjoyed!


	21. Concussions and Sleepovers

"Wow. You've gotten a lot better."

"Did that sound as condescending in your head?" Selina said, blocking his uppercut and jabbing at his side. "Because it came out really condescending." Somehow, they'd ended up sparring. As always Selina hadn't been able to stand still for long, not even with Wayne's arms wrapped around her, and she wasn't ready to go home just yet. Despite his assurances, Selina was still shaken. Every time she threw a punch she pictured Falcone. Or Gerard. Or the Penguin. Or any of the criminal powerhouses that owned the timeshare her soul had become and were out to get her.

"You know that's not what I meant," Wayne said, swinging at her head. Selina ducked and slipped into his guard, slamming her shoulder into his midsection. Wayne backpedaled, trying to regain his footing, and Selina hooked her foot around his. Already off-balance, Wayne toppled to the floor. "Ow."

"That was fun," Selina said, standing over him. She basked in the glow of knocking him on his ass for a moment before helping him to his feet.

"You okay? Your knuckles are bleeding." Wayne asked, turning her hands over to look at them. Selina whirled away from him just in time to keep her spring-loaded knives from slashing open his stomach.

"Jesus. How about some warning before you go grabbing people?"

"I wasn't grabbing people," he said, looking both concerned and bemused. "I was grabbing you."

"That's worse. People don't wear these," Selina said, pulling her sleeves down to reveal the knife sheaths. "I do."

"Wow," Wayne murmured, leaning forward to inspect the delicate metal and leather strapped to her forearms. "Did you make these?"

"Yeah," Selina said, fighting not to blush under the scrutiny. "They make me feel safe." She stepped away from him, twisting her wrists to make the knives spring into her waiting hands. "Told you I was always armed."

"They're amazing. You're amazing." This time Selina did blush, looking away so her hair fell to conceal the red in her cheeks. "Can I try?" Wayne asked. "Using a knife. I mean, you've pretty much mastered my wheelhouse. Might as well take a shot at yours." Selina flipped one of them between her fingers and handed it to him, handle first.

"Come at me." Selina said, shaking herself loose and eyeing him up and down.

"I don't want to hurt you," Wayne said, suddenly looking uncertain. Selina rolled her eyes.

"You're not going to come near me," she said with easy confidence she knew would piss him off. Holding the knife awkwardly and incorrectly in his right hand, Wayne swung into a fighting stance, thrusting the blade at her as if he was throwing a punch. Selina ducked out of the way, making her way inside his guard without a moment's resistance. With her free hand, she grabbed his wrist, twisting the knife out of his hand and bringing up her own, pressing the flat of the blade against his chin. "Wayne," she said, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Relax. You're not holding brass knuckles." She gave him back the knife and folded his fingers around the handle so that he was gripping it correctly. "When you're attacking someone with a weapon, it's not like hand-to-hand. People react differently to knives, and you have to anticipate that. Everything is more fluid. Try again." To his credit, Wayne adjusted to her direction without complaint, loosening his body and changing the footwork that she'd come to recognize as his fighting style. He came at her again, holding the blade the right way this time, but he was still stiff and uncomfortable, unused to attacking anyone with anything other than his fists. Selina let a few of his advances spark off of her knife before she took his from him again.

"How did you even learn all of this?" Wayne asked, circling around her, trying a third time. Selina smiled, twirling the blade around her fingers.

"What? How to use a knife? Or how to be _good_?"

"Did that sound as condescending in your head?" Wayne asked, grinning. Selina stuck her tongue out at him, "How to be good."

"Practice. I like knives because they're easy to use, but if you can to tricks – " Selina tossed her knife up and caught it by clapping her palms together, then spun the flat on the blade on one fingertip. "Then people will spend more time looking at what the knife is doing than what you're doing." Case and point, Selina had managed to sidle up to him and flicked him in the temple while he was too busy looking at the acrobatics. "See?"

"That wasn't nice." Wayne complained, rubbing the side of his head. "Can I try one of the sheaths?" Selina smiled at how excited he sounded before unstrapping the sheath from her left arm and helping him put it on.

"Okay, be careful. If you twist your wrists to the right, it'll put the knife in your hand. Don't tuck your fingers in to catch it or you will cut yourself and then I will laugh at you." Wayne made a face and Selina made one right back at him, enjoying how casual it all was. She didn't _joke_ around with people, she didn't make faces, and she didn't do any of this weird, domestic stuff. Not with anyone but Ivy, at least. "Shit!" she swore, flattening herself onto her stomach when the knife launched at her. "God, Wayne, are you trying to take my head off?"

"I didn't – "

"You have to _catch_ it, you asshole," Selina said, but she was laughing when she yanked the knife out of the wall it had embedded itself in. To be fair, it wasn't all his fault. She hadn't considered recalibrating the sheath for a forearm bigger than hers. She also hasn't considered that it would fly halfway across the room when he didn't grab it in time. "I'm taking that from you. No more toys for billionaires who don't know how to use them."

"I wouldn't call that a toy," Wayne started, unclasping the sheath from his arm. "And fine, that didn't work. Can you throw them? The knives, I mean." Selina raised an eyebrow.

"What do you think I am, some kind of circus act?"

"So you can't do it?"

"I can do it," Selina said testily. "And I resent the implication that I can't just because I don't want to show off like a trick pony."

"Oh, it's not what I said, it's how I said it." Wayne teased. "You're such a girlfriend, who would have guessed." He froze the moment the words left his lips, eyes darting to her like he was afraid she's strike him. Or worse, skewer him. A warm, fluttery feeling spilled into Selina's stomach and she tiptoed over to him.

"I'm _your_ girlfriend. Idiot." She said, kissing the spot right under his jaw. Wayne made a small noise of surprise, whether from the kiss or from Selina calling herself his girlfriend, she didn't know. "Do me a favor. Stand here. Hold your knife up. Don't move." Selina backed three steps away and Wayne just started to protest when she threw the blade with all of her strength, knocking his out of his hand and sending both sailing into the opposite wall. Wayne flinched, ducking his head and swearing, and Selina burst into laughter. "Oh God, the look on your face," she said, nearly tipping backwards.

"You just _threw a knife at me_."

"You asked me to!" Selina said between peals of laughter. "Oh God, you should see your stupid face."

"My stupid…" Wayne said and then Selina screamed as he charged her, throwing her over his shoulder without hesitation. "Put me down!" Selina screeched.

"Say you're sorry."

"No," Selina said stubbornly.

"Say my face isn't stupid."

"Your face is _the most_ stupid," Selina protested, grinning like a maniac. Wayne didn't put her down. In fact, he didn't stop running until both of them couldn't breathe for laughing. Selina was smacking him and Wayne was shouting something incoherent when the whole world went sideways. Selina braced herself, seeing the floor rush up to meet her, but the impact was softer than she expected. Somewhere between tripping and falling, Wayne managed to cage himself around her, absorbing the majority of the impact on his own. Selina only had a moment to process before his head hit the floor with a sickening _crack_ , turning to her blood to ice.

"Wayne?" she said, untangling herself and kneeling beside him. His eyes were closed and he wasn't moving, his limps splayed haphazardly where they'd fallen. "Oh my God, Wayne! Wake up," she ordered, shaking him. "God dammit billionaire, open your eyes!" He didn't move and Selina's heart rate accelerated, blood pounding in her ears. He wasn't allowed to be dead, he _wasn't allowed._ Selina slammed on her chest the way Alfred had to restart her breathing all those weeks ago. "Wayne, wake up. Jesus Christ. _Bruce wake up_!" Selina lifted her fist to hit him again when his eyes snapped open, pupils blown wide. It took him a moment but he finally was able to focus on her.

"Selina?" he said. "You said my name."

"Thank God," Selina breathed, laying her head on his chest. "Never do that to me again. Never again. Never again. Do you understand me?"

"Never again," Wayne slurred, smiling a little. "You said my name."

"And you have a concussion," Selina replied, feeling relief flood into her voice. "Come on, get up." Selina swung his arm around her shoulders and slowly got the two of them to their feet. "God you're heavy."

"You're just tiny," Wayne mumbled, his eyes drooping closed again.

"No no no no, do not fall asleep," Selina ordered. She needed help. She couldn't get him anywhere on her own, she was too small. But she really didn't want to ask… "Fuck me," Selina sighed, putting two fingers to her lips and whistling to keep him awake.

"You're loud and tiny," Wayne said helpfully.

"Shut up, you idiot," Selina said, not without affection. "Stay awake for me, okay?" Selina managed to unload him into a chair and found the intercom panel on the wall. "Jeeves, I broke your billionaire." It took no longer than four seconds for Alfred to blow through the door, somehow managing to look like he'd been shot out of a cannon and perfectly put together at the same time. How he did it, Selina had no idea.

"What the bloody hell…?" Alfred said, taking in the sight of his charge, half-slumped in the chair and very out of it.

"He fell and hit his head. I didn't do it." Not technically, anyway.

"Of course you didn't," Alfred said, waving her off. "Come now, help me get him up."

"Alfred?" Wayne murmured, putting on an over-exaggerated British accent. "Aaaaaaalfred!"

"Okay, you're concussed, not hammered." Selina said, helping Alfred walk Wayne out of the gym.

"Al, she called me Bruce. Not 'Wayne or 'billionaire.'" Wayne said proudly. "Bruce. That's my name."

"Yes, yes, your love knows no bounds. How very exciting for you both." Selina had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. His humor always took her by surprise. Alfred, with the practiced ease of someone who'd done it many times, confirmed that Wayne did indeed have a concussion, and they both helped to put him to bed. Selina had never been in his bedroom before. She'd only ever been in the guest room that had been hers during her brief stint as a prisoner here. Selina had thought _that_ room was enormous, but the mansion's master bedroom was, quite frankly, obnoxiously huge. Who the hell needed this much space just to sleep at night? Not for the first time, Selina despaired at the decadence of Gotham's elite. It was a miracle that Wayne hadn't turned out like some of the snobbish assholes that flounced around the Hill like they were God's gift to the world.

"He'll be fine, we just need to wake him up every couple of hours," Alfred told her.

"Aw, no," Wayne complained, droopy-eyed and frowning. "Sleep is good."

"Idiot," Selina said fondly. Wayne fell asleep without another word, snoring softly into the pillow. Selina watched him for a moment before following Alfred out of the bedroom. He didn't bother trying to talk to her, obviously wary of having his head ripped off again. Selina bit her lip. "Sorry." She forced the word from her lips before the old butler had turned the corner. Alfred stopped but didn't turn around just yet. "I'm sorry."

"About what?" He was punishing her, Selina thought bitterly, and with good reason.

"You were just protecting him," she said, steadfastly refusing to look him in the eye. "I'm a criminal and you read up on my people and you were just trying to protect him. And I lost it. I was trying to protect myself. Sorry."

"Self preservation is nothing to apologize for," Alfred said blithely. "We all do things we regret when we're trying to save our own skin." His tone was one of personal experience.

"Oh?" Selina asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I suggest a trade," Alfred said. "Stories for stories. It'll help pass the time, at least, until we have to wake up Master Wayne. I assume you'll be staying?" Selina nodded. There was no way she was running out on him, not tonight. Ivy would ask questions, but Selina could make something up later.

Alfred didn't waste any time, leading her to the kitchen and bustling around. Why his default setting seemed to be cooking was something Selina didn't understand, but very soon the kitchen started to smell amazing, so she didn't mind. Alfred told her that he'd fought in Vietnam, confirming her theory that he has military background, saying that he'd been an army doctor before joining his countrymen on the front lines. For her part, Selina supplied the story of how she'd gotten the name Alleycat. There was an old mangy tomcat who shared the bridge with the homeless, and while most tried to kick it out – or worse, eat it – Selina had left it anything she could spare and somehow it had begun following her around. She'd never named it, but Selina got used to the cat, and people started to associate the two of them with one another. One day it disappeared, and Selina spent weeks looking for it before she finally accepted that it had either run away or died. But though the cat had gone, the association and the _damned_ nickname had stuck for years.

They traded stories back and forth for the whole two hours, before Wayne needed to be woken up again.

"I'll do it," Selina said softly, excusing herself. "Thanks for the stories, Alfred."

"Oh it seems we are being very liberal with names today. I was starting to like 'Jeeves.""

"Wow, you English dudes don't let anything go, do you?"

"Neither do you street rats. I figure that makes us equals." _Equals_ , Selina thought. She could live with that.

"Wayne," she said, reaching over the covers to shake him.

"What happened to Bruce?" he mumbled.

"Wake up billionaire."

"My name is Bruce," he protested.

"Okay Bruce. I need you to sit up for me, okay?" Selina climbed into the bed and helped pull him into a sitting position. "Your bed is way too big," she complained. "I know your head hurts, but give me two minutes and then you can go back to sleep." He nodded, blinking blearily up at her. "What is my name?"

"Selina. Selina Kyle."

"Good. Who's tall, old, British and works for you?"

"Alfred," Wayne – Bruce – said, smiling. "Don't let him hear you say that, he might leave and then what would I do?"

"You'd have to fend for yourself, you poor thing."

"You're mean."

"Only to people I like." Selina asked him a few more questions and when she was satisfied that his brain hadn't turned to jelly, she started to crawl off of the bed.

"Stay," Bruce said, hooking his arm around her waist and drawing her close to him.

"Bruce," she said.

"Stay," he said, more insistently. "Please." Selina opened her mouth to refuse but closed it again, shrugging underneath the covers. Bruce settles with his arm around her, resting his head on her shoulder, and quickly falls back asleep. It takes Selina a little longer, but soon the rhythmic sounds of his breathing carried her off to sleep as well.

Selina woke to find herself curled into Bruce's side with him snoring softly in her ear. For a brief moment she panicked, before remembering what had happened the night before. The concussion. Falling asleep. Everything.

"Good morning Selina" he murmured. Selina shifted so that she was facing him. He looked different than usual, less put together. His dark hair was mussed and his eyes were still cloudy with sleep, though a small smile turned his lips up in the corners when he said her name. She liked that, the way her name made his mouth smile. Christ she was turning into a sap. "Mornings make you beautiful. Even more beautiful."

"Flattery," Selina said, kissing him lightly. "Will get you everywhere. You're not bad to look at either." His smile widening, Bruce rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "Remind me to get concussed more often if this is how I get to wake up the next morning."

"How about we make it a habit without the head injury?" Selina suggested. "I could get used to mornings like this."

"It beats the overpass."

"It beats the overpass," Selina agreed. Bruce pressed his lips against hers and Selina smiled against his mouth before he started trailing kisses along her jaw. Selina made a noise of contentment before it turned into a groan of complete and total irritation as her phone started ringing furiously in her pocket.

"Hello?" she answered, knowing who was calling before she said a word.

"Where the hell are you?" Ivy screeched. Selina winced, holding the phone away from her ear to keep her eardrum from exploding. Ivy's voice could shatter glass. "If you don't stop these bullshit disappearing acts I'm going to inject a tracker into your ass like one of those stupid dogs that rich people have. I'm not kidding. Where _are_ you?"

"I'm crashing with a contact," Selina lied. "He's got an in with the GCPD and we were up all night."

"Ooh, I'm a contact," Bruce said, sounding unreasonably pleased about it. "You know that literally everything you say sounds like something out of a spy film." Selina pressed her hand over his mouth, biting her lip to keep from yelling when he licked her palm. _Licked it_ , like he was eleven years old and they were on the playground. _I'm going to kill you_ , she mouthed at him.

"A phone call, Sel," Ivy said, sounding like she was massaging her temples. "All I needed was a phone call. You're going to give me a hernia, I swear on my lipstick."

"I'll be home soon."

"You better be. Or I'm getting a needle and a tracer and I'm going to stick it somewhere you won't like."

"I love you too." Selina said, hanging up. "I have to go. Apparently Ivy is going to start tracking my movements because I am flaky and the worst." In Ivy's defense, there was a war brewing and there were lots and lots of people who wanted Selina dead.

"Ah the mysterious Ivy," Bruce said, smiling. "And I get to meet her when exactly?"

"She would eat you alive," Selina said. "Imagine me, only crazy – "

"That's not hard." Selina smacked him. "Ow, be nice to the concussion victim." Selina snorted. Victim her ass.

" – Only crazy, violent – "

"Again, not hard."

"Okay, shut up. Crazy, violent, and has an aptitude for making things that go _boom_. Speaking of." Selina threw off the covers and grabbed her bag from where she'd left it on the end table, fishing inside until she found the vial of Ivy's antiserum.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what the hell is that? Please tell me you're not about to inject that into your body." Bruce said, sitting up and looking very concerned.

"V made it for me." Selina said, rolling her eyes. "It's not heroin."

"That's not one of those things that goes _boom_ is it?"

"You're cute. It's an antidote, for all of my poison needs." Selina still didn't know what was in it, but she trusted Ivy not to kill her by accident. Wouldn't that be the plot twist of the year? All of the assholes out to get her and her best friend was the one to do her in. "Help me with his, will you?" Selina said, handing him one end of the tourniquet. Still processing, Bruce took it without question, wincing when Selina jammed the needle into her skin. "You know all those people out to get me?"

"I lose sleep over it, yes." Not last night he hadn't. It might have been the concussion, but Bruce slept like the dead.

"Yeah well, so does Ivy. She does what she can, and this is what she can do."

"Make potions and blow things up. Is your friend a wizard?"

"No, but she'd love that you think so."

"Do you have to go?" Bruce asked, stretching his long arms above his head before circling them around her shoulders. Selina leaned against him, kissing his chin.

"I do. If Ivy tracks me here we're both screwed. Don't worry, I'll be back soon. I want more mornings like this." Bruce grinned and kissed her goodbye and for a single, blissful moment Selina was happy. But the moment she walked out of the trapdoor, reality settled back in. There was a war coming. Her best friend didn't know about her and Bruce, and there was a very good chance that Gerard or the Penguin would kill her to keep her from telling their traitorous secret. Sure, she was happy now.

But how long would it last?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry this isn't on time but I was on spring break and didn't have a ton of time to write this week, Still, lots of good stuff in this chapter! Hope you all liked it and remember that I love love love feedback!


	22. Ten Days

"You look like shit." Selina said when Ivy keyed into her apartment, barely looking up from the piece of the T-Bird she was working on. She'd been spending so much time with Bruce that the old workshop was starting to feel neglected, and with everything that was going on, Selina figured it would be safer taking the work home with her. The last few weeks had been trying, but somehow they had fallen into a routine. Selina and Ivy were battening down the hatches. Calling in favors, drawing up plans, making promises, threats, anything that would get results. They made contingency plan after contingency plan, and at the heart of each was trying to prove that Falcone had fired on his own people. If they could prove that, then Falcone would be run out of town and they'd be in the clear.

Selina spent most of the day hiding away, trying to find anything that could prove that Falcone was a traitorous bastard, or meeting with the members of her old homeless crew. She hadn't told them everything, but they were on alert, knowing that when Selina was this amped about something, it had to be important. Information rolled in daily, but none of it was useful. For her part, Ivy was building an arsenal. Poisons, bombs, stealing guns and knives and anything she could get her hands on. When she wasn't with Ivy, Selina was with Bruce. Ever since that night, she'd stayed overnight at the mansion more often that she did at her own place, and she was starting to get used to it. Bruce was running himself ragged, him and Jim Gordon tag-teaming to find as much information as they could. Selina might have gagged at the thought at involving the police, but Falcone needed to be stopped. She didn't care if it was by way of iron bars or a bullet in the brain. He had to go down before this whole thing erupted and the entire city tore itself apart.

"I told Harley," Ivy mumbled. Selina nearly dropped the engine piece she'd been fiddling with.

"You did _what_?"

"I told Harley," Ivy said again, eyes cast downward. "About me. About what's going on. I left you out of it but she might still suspect. I'm sorry."

"Why?" Selina ground out, still trying to wrap her head around the _epic stupidity_ that was Ivy telling her girlfriend about the shitstorm she was involved in. "Ivy. Why would you involve her?"

"I love her," Ivy said miserably. "I couldn't lie to her anymore."

"So…she knows? Everything? God, V, what did she say?"

"She didn't say anything. Then she told me to get out, and I did. I just…" Ivy trailed off, her voice breaking. Tears shone in her eyes. "I didn't know what to do. Maybe…maybe it's for the best. At least now she's out of the line of fire."

"No she's not." Selina said, something occurring to her. "You need to make up with her. Talk to her, do _something_."

"You don't understand." Ivy said miserably. "She hates me. I lied to her about everything. Who I am, what I do, all of it."

"You lied to her to keep her safe," Selina said. "And she's still in the crosshairs, only now she doesn't have us to protect her."

"I'm the one who _put_ her in danger in the first place," Ivy protested, sounding moments away from tears. "I can't go back there, Sel. At least now she knows." Dense was not a word that Selina had ever thought to use to describe Ivy before, but dammit if she wasn't being incredibly dense in that moment.

"Oh yeah, you opened her eyes just in time for someone to put a bullet between them," Selina snapped. Ivy flinched backwards like she'd been slapped, but Selina wasn't done. "Ivy, this is war, and she's someone you care about. What the fuck do you think is going to happen if all of this goes to shit and someone finds out that you – Falcone's favorite poisoner – were dating a civilian?" Ivy went pale, her hair shockingly bright against her skin. Her mouth dropped open, but Selina was already moving, snatching her coat off of the hook and blowing out the door.

"Where are you going?" Ivy shouted after her.

"To bring back your girlfriend," Selina replied. Ivy was too emotionally compromised to see it, but if Harley knew the truth now and anyone found out about them, both she and Ivy were in danger. There was a reason people like them didn't date civilians – they could be used as leverage. Selina was completely aware of how hypocritical that was, what with her own relationship with Bruce.

Selina had never been to Harley's apartment, but it wasn't hard to find. She lived in one of the many nondescript apartments in the neighborhood outside of Gotham University. No one stopped her, or asked where she was going, and Selina realized that she fit in with this crowd of badly dressed, incredibly stressed students milling about. She could have been one of them, had her life gone differently. If her mother hadn't been a drug addict that had been murdered and if Selina hadn't run away from the orphanage to live on the street, there was a good chance that she could be one of the over-caffeinated barely-adults that swirled around her in packs.

"Hello?" Selina said, knocking on the door. "Harley?" Selina heard footsteps inside, but no one answered. "Harley, answer the door, I know you're in there." She didn't have time for this. Swearing under her breath, Selina knelt by the lock and quickly jimmied it open.

"Jesus Christ!" Harley swore, nearly jumping out of her skin when she saw Selina push into her apartment. "Selina?" Realization dawned in her eyes and she backed up slowly, staring at Selina like she was going to gut her then and there. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you about Ivy." Harley's pretty features turned icy.

"There is nothing you can say that will make me forgive her," she said severely. "She lied to me. Everything she ever said to me was a lie."

"She didn't lie about loving you," Selina said, trying to inject as much sincerity into her voice as possible. There wasn't a lot of time and Harley had to believe her. "Look. You and I don't know each other that well and it's my fault. I was kind of busy being a criminal and dealing with the consequences of that career path. It's a little hard to get drinks with your best friend's girlfriend when mobsters are trying to kill you." There was a hiss as Harley inhaled quickly, her eyes going wide. Selina ignored it, plugging on. "But I do know Ivy. And don't get me wrong, she lied to you. About everything. Who she was, what she did, who I am. Probably how we met but I don't know if you two got into that story. She lied because that's what we do to protect ourselves, but then you became more important than her own self-preservation. Ivy told you the truth because she loves you, and I love her."

"What, you're here to convince me to take her back?"

"I'm here to convince you to come back with me, because if you get killed, it will destroy her." Harley's face drained of blood at the mention of being killed. "There's a war coming, Harley, between the crime families. Ivy and I are in the middle of it and that puts you there too." Selina dragged a hand down her face, exhaustion and stress fighting one another and bubbling to the surface. "Harley, I like you. I do. You make Ivy happy and she's better since she's been with you. But the thing is, I don't give a shit if you live or you die." Harley sucked in another shocked breath. "I don't. I don't have the time, the energy, or cardiovascular health to worry about anyone else. But Ivy…Ivy is a part of me and I would die for her. You're important to her. Chances are, no one knows who you are and no one cares. That's good for you. But I'm not taking that chance. I don't care if you hate her, I don't care if you forgive her, but I do know that you love her."

"So what? If I die, what does it matter that I love her?" Harley breathed, her voice little more than a whisper.

"Because death doesn't happen to you. It happens to everyone you care about and who cares about you. You're gone, and everyone else has to figure out how to deal with the gaping hole you left in their lives. I can tell you firsthand that Ivy has never loved anyone like she loves you. And if something happens to you, I don't think she'll survive it." Harley didn't answer for a long time, obviously considering everything Selina had said.

"Fine," she said, her mouth set in a grim line. "I'll come with you." Selina nodded, feeling some of the tension lifting off of her chest, before her phone vibrated in her pocket. _Shit_ , Selina said, recognizing the number.

"Hello," Selina said coolly.

"Who's – " Harley started before Selina shushed her.

"My darling Selina," Fish said, purring as usual. "It's been far too long since you and I had a chat. Why don't you come by my nightclub? Say, half hour?"

"I'll be by," Selina said, feeling wary. Sure, Fish liked her, but this was unexpected.

"Oh, how wonderful. There's someone who would very much like to meet you." Something shifted and suddenly there was an edge in Fish's voice that hadn't been there before. Whoever she had waiting at the club, Selina would bet they weren't friendly. Worst-case scenarios started flashing through Selina's mind like some kind of hellish slideshow, making her heart pound against her ribs. Selina knew that she was Fish's favorite, but so had the Penguin, once.

"Looking forward to it." Selina said and hung up. "New plan," she said to Harley. "Meet Ivy at her place."

"Who was that?"

"Not a question you want the answer to. Ivy will be there, and you two can figure out what to do from there."

"Where do I tell Ivy you are?" Harley insisted and Selina shot her a sideways glance. It sounded like she was actually _worried_. Either that, or dropping Ivy's name was one hell of a manipulation technique.

"You tell Ivy I'm taking care of some business." Selina said, biting off the end of each word. "And that I'll be home soon. When you go, make sure no one follows you." Selina didn't wait for agreement, just blew out the door, slipping unnoticed through the throngs of students until she found a cab. The ride seemed to take much less time than it should have, and Selina wasn't prepared. Whatever Fish had cooked up for her, it wasn't good, and she didn't have a lot of options. For a moment she thought of calling Bruce, saying goodbye – if this was going to be goodbye – before she thought better of it. There was a chance that this was nothing and she didn't want to worry him for no reason. And if not…well Bruce had always known the risks, and he knew all about the war. He had to expect that one day she just wasn't going to show up.

Sucking in a breath and summoning as much courage as she could, Selina walked into the nightclub, eyeing the exits and noting the security posted at both doors, as well as the three that were milling about and overall failing to look casual. She didn't like her odds against the five of them.

"Selina!" Fish said from a booth, beckoning her over. "You made wonderful time. There's someone here who'd very much like to meet you." A white-haired someone turned in the booth to look at her and Selina felt her mind go blank. Falcone. Carmine _fucking_ Falcone. Here. Looking at her and smiling like he was a kindly old grandfather or something, and not a mass murderer. _The_ mass murder. The one who'd killed his own people in order to frame Maroni and incite a war.

"Selina Kyle," he said, his voice rough and old and ordinary. "I have heard so much about you. Please, sit."

"Mr. Falcone," Selina managed to grind out through clenched teeth, sliding into the chair opposite him. "All good things I hope."

"Oh yes," Falcone replied, sounding almost kind. "Fish tells me that you're her current favorite. I must say that it's a rather precarious position to be in."

"Not if you do your job and stay on her good side," Selina replied evenly, flashing Fish a winning smile. "I assume you know by now that I'm very good at my job and on her good side is where I intend to stay."

"See Carmine, I told you she was a pip." Fish said, tapping her nails together and sounding pleased.

"It seems you were right." Falcone agreed. His approval made her teeth hurt, like nails running down a chalkboard. She didn't want approval from the man who'd gunned her people down in cold blood. Children. They were children, all of them, and now six of them were dead at the hands of the fucking bastard who was smiling at her across the table. "Selina, I know that you have been groomed by one of my lieutenants, Gerard." Selina's world snapped into fast forward, throwing everything into sharp relief. "And it has come to my attention that you and a Mr. Oswald Cobblepot have been conducting business." Falcone paused, reaching out to take a long sip from the wineglass in front of him, letting her stew. To her credit, Selina managed to keep it together, despite her worst nightmare playing out in front of her. Even as Falcone finished his drink, Selina was planning the best way to slit his throat and take out as many as his staff as possible before they gunned her down. There were five hulking men, plus Fish and Falcone, both of whom were undoubtedly armed. At this point, she knew that there was no way she was making it out of there alive. She just wanted to take as many of them with her as possible.

And a tiny part of her was cursing and screaming that she should have called Bruce. She should have said goodbye. Now he was never going to know what happened to her. Selina was no stranger to near-death experiences, but she'd never had so much time to _think_ before the violence started. But Falcone was taking his sweet time and Selina was left wishing that she had a chance see him one more time and apologize for turning his life upside down before vanishing just as quickly, criminal bravado be damned to hell.

"Now." Falcone said, patting off his lips. "You seem like a smart girl, Selina. And as you well know, Mr. Cobblepot isn't one of us any longer. Fish here made sure of that. So the question remains: Why would a smart girl, a good reaper, who has done nothing but work to benefit this organization, also work with a Maroni man?" For half a second, Selina considered turning Gerard in. Spilling everything in an attempt to save her own skin. But somehow she knew that it wouldn't do anything. If she accused Gerard and Falcone didn't believe her, she was dead. Even if he did believe her, there was a good chance he'd off her just on principle. So Selina settled for clenching her jaw and glaring Falcone down. She wouldn't show him fear, she _wouldn't_. If this was it, she was going to take him with her. Selina braced herself, every muscle pulling taut for the moment violence erupted.

"Unless, darling, you weren't working of your own volition," Fish said, her red painted lips curving up into the shark's smile. "Carmine and I have had our suspicions about Gerard for some time now. He's a slippery son of a bitch, make no mistake, and it wasn't surprising that he involved you. Gerard never could do anything on his own. Not anything good anyway. And Oswald is an unpleasant man, he always has been. It's a shame that you got caught in the middle of the two of them." Selina just stared at her, not daring to hope. Not even daring to breathe. What was she saying?

"Fish, just look at her," Falcone said, smiling benignly and speaking as if Selina wasn't there. "The determination. And look at those eyes. Such fire. She was going to try to kill me if this went badly."

"I wasn't going to try," Selina hissed through her teeth. "I was going to succeed."

"I admire your confidence. But do tell me, after you'd killed me, did you expect to get out of here alive?"

"No."

"A girl who knows her limits. That's refreshing. So many young people these days thing that they're invincible. Nice to know that some of you have retained your common sense." _Thanks for the lecture on Generation X_ , Selina wanted to scream at him. _Are you going to shoot me or not?_ He better make up his mind soon because Selina didn't think her heart could take much more of this. She felt like she'd aged ten years in the last ten minutes. "I don't blame you. You were coerced and manipulated by men more powerful and connected than yourself. You did what you had to in order to survive. I respect that. However, you did betray me, and that cannot stand."

"What this rambling old man means to say," Fish translated, "is that Gerard is a problem we can no longer afford, and we think that you are in a perfect position to do something about it."

"You want me to kill him?" Selina asked, her stomach turning at the thought.

"Very good." Fish pursed her lips. "And I don't think it needs saying, but if you don't kill him within the next ten days, you and your redheaded friend will take his place in the morgue. Ten days, Selina." Selina could only stare, a cold weight settling in her stomach.

Ten days.


	23. Caught

Bruce was in a meeting when Alfred burst into the sitting room, looking more agitated than Bruce could ever remember seeing him. That didn't bode well.

"Master Wayne," Alfred said, slightly out of breath but managing to regain his composure. "I am so terribly sorry to interrupt."

"Don't be, we're wrapping up here," Harvey Dent said. Bruce felt a twinge of irritation at being answered for, before he stuffed it away. Dent was a politician, used to be the center of attention wherever he went, and they _had_ just been wrapping up. Dent was running for district attorney, and he needed funding. He'd been a fan of Bruce's parents and everything they stood for, or so he said, and thought the next logical leap was to come to their orphaned son for funding. To his credit, Bruce had been slowly but surely acclimating himself to Gotham after so many years of being a recluse. Then again, he was just nineteen. "Mr. Wayne, it was a pleasure meeting you. You've got a bright future ahead, and I hope we can be partners for some of it."

"I will think about your proposal and have an answer within the week," Bruce said. "Thank you for coming by."

"I will show you out," Alfred said stiffly. Dent waved him off.

"I know the way. And it seems like you've got something a little bigger to worry about. Take care." Dent waved and showed himself out, and Bruce turned to Alfred. Whatever had him so worried, it wasn't good.

"Selina is here." Alfred said, like he had dozens of times in the last few weeks. But something in his tone said that this wasn't a good meeting. Bruce didn't say a word, just followed Alfred out the door into his office. Selina was slumped over in a chair, staring at the wall blankly. She didn't even acknowledge them when they came in. Bruce's mouth dropped open at the sight of her like that, curled on herself like a doll. She had always been small, but now she looked half her normal size, her arms wrapped around her stomach like she was trying to protect herself and her legs tucked beneath her. She looked moments away from shrinking right out of existence. "She's not speaking," Alfred whispered, but Bruce was willing to bet that Selina couldn't hear him anyway. Her head was cocked at an odd angle, like she couldn't bear the weight of holding it upright any longer, and Bruce's heart squeezed painfully at the sight of her, even as rage boiled through his blood. Who had done this? He'd tear them to fucking pieces. It occurred to him that Bruce had never been particularly violent until Selina had dive-bombed into his life. "She's exhibiting symptoms of shock, and before she mentioned someone named Gerard? I couldn't make out the rest." At the name, Selina jerked upright, bolting to her feet like she'd been electrocuted.

"Selina?" Bruce said warily, taking a step toward her. She whirled around to face him but her eyes were unfocused and Bruce realized with a cold pang of shock that she wasn't seeing him at all. "Selina, talk to me. It's me, it's Bruce. Wayne. Billionaire." None of the nicknames she'd awarded him seemed to break the numb blankness that had settled over her like ice. He moved closer and she exploded into action, twisting her wrists so hard that Bruce could hear a small _pop_ , but she didn't seem to feel the pain. Her knives were in her hands in an instant and then she was eyeing him up and down like he was a target. "Selina, it's me. Please, listen to me." Bruce's voice was raw with anxiety and he wasn't even looking at the blades, too focused on trying to find any kind of recognition in her eyes. There was none.

Spurred on by something Bruce couldn't see, Selina rounded on him, the knives brought up to attack –

She screamed – the first vocal response he'd heard – as a gun went off and there was a clatter as one knife fell to the floor. Bruce spun wildly, seeing Alfred holding a pistol still aimed at her. She was bleeding, the shot having grazed the top of her hand.

"Jesus Christ, Alfred!" Bruce shouted, his heart hammering against his ribs. "What the hell was that for?" Alfred wasn't looking at him, he was staring at Selina. For her part, Selina was staring right back, and Bruce knew that she was assessing, trying to find a weak point.

"Selina, I'm going to have to ask you to put down the knife," Alfred said, his voice as contained as ever, but there was steel buried there. Selina didn't answer just let the second blade fall to the floor. Bruce almost sighed with relief, but he never had the opportunity. No sooner had the knife hit the ground than Selina was moving, launching herself across the room to where his father's whip was still mounted on the wall. Bruce had put it up after she'd saved his life with it, and wished that he hadn't. Her hand and wrist gauntleted with blood, Selina yanked the whip off of the wall. Before either he or Alfred could react the three cattails were wrapped around Alfred's wrist, yanking the gun out of his hands. Alfred swore when Selina pulled the bullwhip away and Bruce lurched forward, managing to coil both of his arms around hers so that she couldn't move. She screamed again, a long, piercing cry that damn near shattered his eardrums, and Bruce realized with abject horror that her eyes were wet with tears. What in God' name had happened to her?

"I have to," she murmured brokenly. "I have to."

"What do you have to do, Selina?" he asked desperately, spinning the both of them so that they were face to face. She looked up at him miserably, the tiniest flicker of recognition lighting up her eyes from within.

"I have to – " Her words were cut off as a hypodermic syringe was jammed into her neck and her eyes rolled. Selina went limp in his arms and Bruce turned to see Alfred, wielding the needle and shrugging.

"Forgive me, Master Wayne, but next time you decide to have relations with a criminal, please make sure that combat is not an aspect of their skillset. For now, let's make sure she wakes comfortably, shall we? I'm afraid that Miss Selina has gone through one hell of an ordeal." Bruce looked down at Selina, at her restless eyes twitching beneath her lids and the frown that turned her mouth down even in sleep, and couldn't help but agree.

* * *

Selina woke quickly, her eyes flying open and she nearly leaped out of the bed she found herself in. Nearly. A rush of dizziness and nausea crashed over her head and she sank back into the pillows in a dejected heap. She was at the Manor, that much was clear. Nowhere else has such annoyingly lavish guest bedrooms.

It was Wayne Manor, but she had no idea how she'd gotten there. The last thing she remembered was getting on a bus outside of Fish's club, numb and terrified of the hellish deadline that had been presented to her. Kill Gerard in ten days or be killed herself. Worse, Ivy was on the hit list as well. After paying the bus driver, everything was a weird, dull blur. Her memory was in pieces – flashes of color and sound. A gunshot. A scream. Bruce looking at her like she was going crazy. Maybe she was. Selina raised her hand to her head and noticed with a start that it was bandaged and painful. Had she been _shot_? Who the hell had shot her? If she had to bet, Selina's money was on Alfred. Bruce hated guns almost as much as she did and he was a shit shot anyway. A second question occurred to her:

What had she done to make Alfred desperate enough to shoot her? They'd had their problems, but Selina had eaten her pride and mended that fence weeks ago. He wouldn't have hurt her if he had a choice, Selina knew that without question. So what had she done? Selina rolled her neck and found it stiff. A Band-Aid covered a small puncture wound. She'd been drugged. That explained the nausea. Ivy's anti-serum was no doubt acting against it even now, making all kinds of unpleasant side effects. Then again, Selina was willing to bet that she should've been out for longer than she was. She made a mental note to thank Ivy later.

Ivy. Selina's heart sank, thinking once again of the deadline. Ivy had to get out of town, and take Harley with her.

Once Selina was confident she could stand without throwing up or falling over, she cautiously made her way out of the bedroom. Alfred was nowhere in sight and the cameras wouldn't detect her, thanks to Manny's last gift. Selina's eyes found the ceiling and she winged a quick _thank you_ to whoever might be up there and listening. She'd never been the praying type, but at this point it couldn't hurt.

Slowly, she made her way to Bruce's office. He spent nearly all of his time in there when they weren't together, Alfred had told her once. He wasn't wrong. He was on the phone, sitting at his desk with his back to her, speaking to someone over the phone and in French. Selina padded in, listening as he discussed some sort of business with whoever was on the line. Quietly, she was impressed. Selina knew that he was trying to be more invested in his company, but singlehandedly negotiating with foreign investors was a lot to shoulder before you were legally allowed to drink.

" _Euh_ ," Bruce paused, tripping over a word.

" _Le atout_ ," Selina whispered in his ear. An asset. "Your company would make _un atout precieux_." Bruce jumped a little then quickly ending the conversation.

"You are not supposed to be awake yet," he said. "I also did not know that you spoke French."

"I speak a lot of languages," Selina replied, shrugging. She'd never finished high school – and hadn't taken any languages in school anyway – but she'd picked them up over the years. When working with Italian gangsters, it helped to speak Italian. But, then again, Gotham's seedy underbelly was filled with criminals from every corner of the world. It had been in Selina's best interest to learn as many as possible.

"Really?" Bruce said, quirking an eyebrow.

"Your surprise wounds me."

"No I'm impressed," Bruce said before his lips turned down in a frown. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got stabbed in the neck for something I can't remember doing," Selina said, absently rubbing where she'd ripped off the bandage. "Also, someone shot me. I'm guessing Jeeves." Bruce flinched and looked away. "Bruce, what the hell happened to me?"

"I was going to ask you that. You…well you almost attacked me."

"And your bulldog-slash-butler shot me for it, gotcha. Jesus," she said, mostly to herself. "I don't even remember how I got here."

"Alfred said that you were in shock. It was like you didn't even recognize us." It was worse than he was saying, Selina could tell.

"What did I do? Did I hurt you? Did I hurt Alfred?"

"Well…" Bruce hedged.

"Tell me."  
"You broke his wrist. With the whip."

"Shit," Selina swore, dropping her head onto his shoulder. "Is he okay? Are _you_ okay? I didn't do anything to you, did I?" Selina was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she'd made it to the Manor in some kind of fugue state. Sure, she'd been shocked at what Falcone and Fish were proposing – shocked and terrified and horrified – but to dissociate completely? Selina had known that she was crazy for a while but this was verging on psychotic.

"I'm fine. I'm worried about you."

"Me too, believe me," Selina said, winding her unbroken hand through her hair and pacing the length of the room. She had to tell him. Which meant telling him about Gerard and the Penguin too. Selina had made it clear that there were things about her life that she couldn't tell him for his own safety, but not something like this. Not when she thought she was going to die and she'd wished she could say goodbye. Selina owed him the truth.

"You don't have to talk about it now," Bruce offered before she could start. Selina looked up at him, her expression hopeful. "Whatever happened, it must have been awful. Alfred said that some of his old army buddies used to react like that sometimes, but they all had PTSD. Whatever it was, if can wait if you want it to." Slowly, Selina nodded, feeling tears crowding in her eyes. "Okay," Bruce said, winding his hand thought hers. "You've had a rough twenty-four hours. I think that's earned my thoroughly mediocre cooking." Selina pretended to groan, but the weight on her chest seemed to lighten just a touch. She didn't deserve him. She didn't deserve this, and he didn't deserve all the trouble that she'd dumped on his doorstep. Bruce was good and she…well, Selina broke everything she touched.

Maybe that's why she was so obsessed with learning how to put things back together.

Alfred joined them halfway Bruce's disastrous attempt at making pancakes, which Selina was openly mocking. Seriously. Who messed up pancakes? He waved her off when Selina apologized for breaking his wrist, but she still felt the pang of guilt seeing his arm in a sling. Still, even one-armed, the old man's pancakes kicked Bruce's ass.

They were competing to see who could make the tallest pancake tower – childish, yes, but it was a moment of fun and she needed the distraction – when the doorbell rang and Alfred made to excuse himself

"I'll get it," Bruce said. "I think you and Selina have some things to talk over." He was gone before Selina could object, but she managed to shoot him a filthy look before he went. She didn't say anything to Alfred for a long moment, shoveling pancake into her mouth to delay the inevitable.

"I don't blame you, you know," Alfred said finally. Selina squinted at him. "You know, I used to have this friend, back during my army days. Brilliant soldier, horrid civilian. He saw some things overseas, we all did, but they affected him more deeply. One day he showed up at my flat, but it was like he wasn't there at all. PTSD-induced dissociate state, the doctors called it, brought on by the horrors of what he'd seen." Alfred gave her a keen look and Selina struggled not to look away. "You've seen horrors, Selina. You were only trying to protect yourself, and I can't fault you that."

"Thank you," she said softly. She hadn't expected his understanding, or forgiveness.

"Although I must say, having my wrist broken with a whip is a new one."

"The fact that he kept the freaking bullwhip on the wall," Selina said, dropping her head into her bandaged hands. "I don't even know how to _use_ it."

"You know more than you think," Alfred said coolly.

"Fugue state," Selina said, like she was pleading the Fifth.

"I'm serious," Alfred said, smiling in that benign way of his. "Give it some practice and you could be a regular rodeo clown."

"That's cold," Selina said, but she was laughing, relieved that he was taking all of this so well. "You're not allowed to be mean to me, you shot me."

"I daresay I had a good reason. You broke my wrist."

"Shooting is worse."

"It's a flesh wound."

"It's still going to scar!"

"I don't think Master Wayne will quite fall out of love with you because of one new scar. He's quite fond of them, in fact." Selina stilled, stunned into silence at his words. _Fall out of love?_ As in…She took a drink of water to keep the panic on her face from showing.

"Selina?" Bruce's voice came from outside the kitchen and she sighed with relief. Saved by the billionaire. "Come here, I have something to show you." Selina gratefully ducked out.

"What's u – " Selina stopped dead in her tracks, dropping the glass she forgot she'd been holding. "Oh my God." Bruce was slouching, his head lolling lazily on his shoulders, and there was a syringe jammed into his neck. A syringe wielded expertly by a very tall, very angry someone with violently red hair. "Ivy," Selina breathed, her heart tripping in her chest.

"Tell me it's a con," Ivy said, her voice low and dangerous. "Tell me that there's an endgame where you steal everything he has and then go somewhere safe. Tell me you haven't been risking your life for _him_!"

"What did you do to him?" Selina demanded. Bruce was limp and stumbling, his eyes glassy and unfocused. "Jesus Ivy, _what did you do_?" Alfred came storming out of the kitchen at her raised voice, drawing his gun immediately when he saw Ivy.

"Unbelievable," Ivy snarled. "Your life on the line, the war, and you've been spending your time playing Princess of Gotham?"

"Miss," Alfred said, polite to a fault, though his voice was iron and his hand didn't shake. "I would suggest you release Mr. Wayne immediately."

"Ivy," Selina said softly. "Listen to me. Let him go, please."

"And have Jeeves shoot me? No thanks. He stays with me." Selina's eyes flicked from Ivy to Bruce, despair pooling in her gut, and Ivy growled. "He's fine. A little out of it and very open to suggestion, but fine." That explained why he'd called her out here; Bruce would never had purposely put her in harm's way. "God, Selina. How could you do this? How could you be so stupid? And how could you not tell me about it?" Selina opened her mouth to reply when she heard the _click_ of Alfred's safety being disengaged.

"Stop!" she shouted, throwing herself in between him and Ivy. "Jesus fuck both of you _listen to me_. Alfred, put the gun down, because if you shoot my best friend I will burn this whole place to the ground. Ivy. Let him go or I will stab you in the leg, I swear to God." Slowly, Alfred lowered his gun and with a sneer, Ivy shoved Bruce away from herself. He stumbled into Selina's arms and she inspected his eyes before passing him off to Alfred. "He's going to be fine," she whispered. "What she used was nontoxic. Just put him to bed and let him sleep it off."

"You're certain? And you will take care of your friend here?" Selina nodded, keeping her body between Alfred and Bruce's retreating figures and Ivy.

"Ivy – " Selina started. She barely got the name out before Ivy cut her off.

"Did you think I would care?" Ivy demanded, eyes burning with green fire. "Did you think that I would give a shit that you were with him? You think that with everything we're going through, I would give a damn about your rich boyfriend?" Ivy paused, pacing back and forth. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because he's _Bruce Wayne_ , living embodiment of everything we hate in this world. God, I've never hated anymore more than I hated him."

"Then what the hell happened?"

"He saved me." Selina said haltingly. "I saved him. And now…"

"You love him."

"Yeah." She'd never said it before, never so much as thought it, but it was true. "Yeah, I love him. I should have told you."

"I would've kept the both of you safe," Ivy mumbled, looking down.

"What?"

"I would've kept the both of you safe!" Ivy said, shouting now. "You think I care that he's Bruce fucking Wayne? I'm in love with a civilian who just recently found out that I'm a criminal. At least yours knows what you are. Christ, Sel. Does he make you happy?"

"Yes."

"Then I support you. I would've supported you sooner. Sure, I would've been a little shocked, but I would've gotten over it because I'm Ivy Pepper and you're Selina Kyle and we're in this together, no matter what happens." Selina hesitated, blinking tears out of her eyes. God. Ivy and Bruce. With all the horrible shit in her life, how had she managed to trick the two of them into loving her? And how was she going to survive if she lost them?

"V," she said, happiness draining away when she remembered the deadline and everything that had happened in the last few days. "In the spirit of honesty, there's something I have to tell you. You're not going to like it." Looping her arm through Ivy's, Selina started walking. "Come on, we'll walk and talk. And raid the liquor. Alfred's got great taste in Scotch."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know technically it's a Saturday, but I only missed it by 25 minutes! Anyway, hope you all enjoy!


	24. Pentultimate

"Ten days?" Ivy managed after Selina had explained anything. She took a long pull out of the Scotch bottle they'd swiped from Alfred's stash. It was no doubt the most expensive alcohol either of them had ever had.

"Nine now." Selina said, taking the bottle from her. She took a swig and shuddered. Expensive or cheap, Scotch still tasted like shit. "Nine days or they kill us both. What are we going to do, V?"

"We're going to kill him, obviously," Ivy replied without hesitation. "Someone should have put a bullet in him years ago, and after everything he's put you through, it might as well be you."

"I don't kill people," Selina deadpanned.

"Well that is certainly good to hear. Also good to hear that you are on better terms," Alfred's dry voice came from behind the two of them. "And ladies, please help yourself to the alcohol at eleven in the morning. Is it safe to assume that assume both of you are underage?"

"I'm twenty-two," Ivy lied, just as Selina said: "I've got an ID that says I've been twenty-one since 2012." It was almost true. Ivy was almost twenty-one and Selina's twentieth birthday had come and gone a few months ago without any fanfare. Birthdays didn't mean anything to either of them, not really.

"Don't think we were properly introduced," Ivy said, nodding at him. "Ivy. Sorry for doping up your boss. I was sort of hoping that there was a kidnapping situation going on. I didn't know it was love." Ivy had briefly explained how she'd tracked Selina down, and when Bruce had told her where they were inside the mansion, she'd realized that it wasn't any kind of body-snatching case.

"I must say I was hoping we'd be introduced under much more civil terms," Alfred said evenly. Ivy matched his stare and Selina stayed quiet, watching their silent battle of wills. "But I suppose I couldn't have expected anything less. Miss Selina and I weren't exactly acquainted amicably either. In fact, it might have been worse than this."

"Wow, those were a lot of big words. Do you have a word of the day calendar or something?" Alfred ignored her. "And Jesus, how could her intro have been worse?"

"There was an assassin, I got in his way, he tried to strangle me to death, Al shot him." Selina summed up. Ivy raised a fiery eyebrow.

"Which assassin? Anyone we know?"

"You two know assassins," Alfred murmured, rubbing his temples. "Bloody hell."

"No one we know. Newman." Selina said, ignoring him. Ivy's eyes bugged.

"You went up against _Newman_?" she shrieked. "I'm having you committed, I swear to God. I thought you meant someone _good_ , not someone psychotic. Newman. No wonder he's been off the grid for so long." Ivy looked at Alfred with newfound respect. "You iced Newman. Good for you, man. That guy was super scary."

"Christ Almighty, you really are a pair." Alfred said, looking between Selina and Ivy like he wasn't sure exactly what he'd stumbled into and it was giving him a headache. "Miss Selina, I thought you might want to know that Master Wayne is awake. He might want a proper introduction to your friend. Without a needle." He gave Ivy a significant look and she put her hands up in surrender.

"Hey I'm out of needles. Actually no, I have a bunch more, but I promise not to use them. I'm on my best behavior. Actually," she said, eyeing him up and down. "After we make nice with Richey Rich, how about I whip something up for that arm? Nontoxic, I swear. Looks like Selly did a number on you."

"You should take her up on that," Selina suggested. "She's been patching me up for years."

"Correction," Ivy said as they walked towards Bruce's wing of the house. "She does the patching, I supply the drugs."

"You two worry me."

"As well we should," Ivy said, winking. Alfred looked nonplussed at Ivy's sudden change of attitude towards him. Selina was pleased, though not altogether surprised. Ivy's rage fizzled out quickly, and she wasn't one to hold grudges. That was more Selina's area. Once she was sure that Selina wasn't in danger, she'd gone back to her usual, easygoing self. Besides, Ivy was clearly enjoying freaking Alfred out with their Siamese-twin criminal bit.

Selina ignored their soft bantering, pushing into Bruce's bedroom.

"Hey," he said, propped up on the pillows and looking much better. "You're here."

"Of course I'm here," she said, sitting down next to him and absently pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Have you been drinking Scotch?" Selina laughed, covering her mouth to try and hide the smell.

"It's been a rough few hours."

"What happened?"

"Ivy happened." That wasn't what he meant and she knew that but Selina wasn't ready to retell the whole story again.

"That would be me. Hi." Ivy said, coming in and waving. She had the decency to look uncomfortable, raking her fingers through her hair. Selina gave her an expectant look. "I, uh, I'm sorry I stabbed you in the neck. To be fair, I thought you were holding Selina hostage and honestly I probably should've killed you outright for that." Bruce blinked twice, staring at Ivy like he didn't know what to think. "But I'm glad I didn't because then she'd be pissed at me…and I'm bad at apologies so I'm going to stop now." Ivy looked away awkwardly and Bruce laughed, surprising all of them.

"Nice to meet you," Bruce said finally. "You're pretty for a kidnapper." Selina snickered, chalking that up to the drugs.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Ivy said, pleased. "Unfortunately, I am happily taken, very bisexual, and you are not my type."

"And you are everything she said you would be," Bruce said after taking a few moments to process all of that. He laughed as Ivy's mouth dropped open.

"Have you been talking shit about me?"

"No," Selina insisted just as Bruce said: "Yes."

"Traitor!" Selina groaned, laying her head on his stomach. Bruce put his hand on her back, rubbing slow lazy circles with his thumb. "I'm glad you're okay." Selina smiled, sitting up to look at him. "What happened? Before…before everything went sideways." Selina winced and Ivy came to stand at her side.

"Do you want me to tell him?" Ivy offered.

"No, I've got it." Selina said, sucking in a breath. "Uh, so my boss."

"A seedy asshat named Gerard," Ivy supplied. Selina ignored her, continuing.

"My boss is trying to stage a coup against Falcone with a Maroni officer. So I've…I've been working for both sides of the war and – "

"They found out," Bruce filled in when Selina trailed off. "God, they found out, didn't they?"

"Yeah," Selina said. "And they gave me an ultimatum. Kill my boss or Ivy and I get whacked. I have nine days." For a moment, no one said everything as the room filled with heavy, deafening silence. Until finally, Bruce spoke.

"Then we figure it out."

* * *

 

Three hours later, they were no closer to a solution.

"I still say that we just off him," Ivy insisted for the eleventh time. The four, including Alfred, stood around the island in the Italian kitchen. Alfred had taken Ivy up on her offer to make him something to make his wrist heal faster, and she stood at the sink, mixing chemicals and advocating that Selina just "shoot the bastard." Bruce's suggestion was for the both of them to get out of the city, possibly even out of the country. He'd offered to bankroll the two of them for as long as it took for the families to forget about them. Maybe even fake their deaths. He didn't understand how _powerful_ Falcone was, how far his reach extended. They couldn't just leave, and honestly, Falcone was probably watching every bridge and tunnel out of the city, not to mention the airport. Even if they were completely disguised and drowning in his money, there was no way they'd be able to get out of Gotham without tipping Falcone off.

"He's paranoid, he'll see me coming," Selina said. "Besides," she said, catching Bruce's look. "I don't do killing."

"Good thing that I do," Ivy said without hesitation. "Hey, don't give me that look Jeeves. If it comes down to Gerard or Sel, I'm picking her, I don't care if I have to blow his brains out myself." Usually, Selina didn't mind Ivy's ruthlessness; she even appreciated it. But the looks Alfred and Bruce were shooting her were making her antsy.

"Your dedication to your friend is admirable, but what you're proposing is murder," Alfred reminded her lightly.

"Fine, if you want to call it that," Ivy said, shrugging. "But this is war. You know what that's like, GI Pennyweather." Alfred raised an eyebrow but didn't disagree. Selina wasn't surprised that Ivy had picked up on that. The old butler had a distinctly military look about him and he was a crack shot like no other. "Sometimes in war, people die. At least this one deserves it."

"V…" Selina hedged. Ivy rolled her eyes.

"Right fine, they're civilians, whatever. We'll find a non-murderous solution." She looked offended by the very thought and Selina was grateful that Ivy was on her team, and not playing for the other side.

"I wouldn't exactly call myself a civilian," Alfred said primly.

"You're a civ for our intents and purposes," Ivy shot back.

"We need a solution," Selina said, giving Ivy a strict look. "That doesn't involve me killing Gerard, or him killing me."

"Or Falcone killing us." Ivy added helpfully. Selina glared again.

"Okay no more suggestions from you," she said. "Bruce, Al, you got anything to add?"

"I still think we should try to get you out," Bruce said. He was handling all of this well. Suspiciously well, but Selina wasn't going to question it. She was appreciative that he was keeping it together, because she felt very, very close to falling apart. "I've got properties all over the world, you'll be safe there."

"What about Ivy? What about Harley? My homeless network?"

"You have a homeless network?" Bruce asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Stay on point, Wayne. Yes I have a homeless network. Some guys I look out for from under the bridge. I offer protection, they do me favors."

"God you're like something out of a comic book." Bruce said, shaking his head before moving on. "I say that you guys should stay here as long as you need. Get this Harley here, and anyone else important to you, and we can keep them safe until everything blows over."

"That's not a bad idea," Ivy piped in. "Harley's not involved in any of this and I want her safe. If she happens to be safe and in a castle, all the better. You sure it's okay?"

"She can't be worse than you two," Bruce said, grinning.

"Are you sure she'll come?" Selina whispered to Ivy. Two days ago, they hadn't exactly been on the best of terms.

"She'll come. I'll go get her." Ivy said without hesitation.

"I'll do it," Bruce contradicted and Ivy gave him a look. "I'm not the one in danger. No one's made the connection between us yet –

"I did." Ivy said smugly.

"Except Ivy. It's safer for the both of you if I go. Less chance anyone will see you and report back to these scary mob guys."

"And will you be taking the Rolls on this little rescue expedition?" Alfred asked, every syllable dripping sarcasm.

"No I think the bus will do it," Bruce replied obliviously. "I've gone down there before, Al, and it was fine. No one say me."

"And that was a goddamn miracle," Selina muttered. "If you're going back to the Narrows, you can't look like that."

"Makeover?" Ivy asked, grinning.

"Makeover."

"Oh, this is going to be cathartic," Ivy said, rubbing her hands together. "Let's get started."

Ivy fell on Bruce's wardrobe like a true gutter rat, searching through the racks of fashionable designer labels until she found something that was at least normal-looking, making disparaging comments the whole time. Finally, she found his rattiest ('ratty' being a subjective term) hoodie and jeans and vanished to do God-knows-what with them. Selina suspected they'd look old and disgusting by the time she was done with them. Possibly smelling like meth.

"Is it just me, or is she having way too much fun with this?" Bruce asked.

"You have everything and we have nothing," Selina replied, digging through his bathroom for something to use in his hair. "I've had time to adjust. Honestly, be glad she's taking it out on your clothes and not your face." She grabbed a bottle of gel from the very back. Bruce didn't usually use product.

"I do like my face."

Selina smiled, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. "I'm pretty fond of it myself." Selina stood on a chair behind him and started rubbing the gel into his hair, slicking it back like the bangers did. He'd have his hood up, but just in case.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked when Selina was silent for a long while. Selina bit her lip, loving and hating how he could read her in equal measure.

"About how lucky I am to have you in my life," she said after thinking about it for a minute. "And how unlucky you are to be here."

"Hey," Bruce said, turning to face her. "Where is this coming from?"

"I'm poison, Bruce," Selina admitted. "Everyone around me gets killed, and getting you involved in all of this…"

"You're not poison," Bruce said, cupping the sides of her face with his hands. Selina bit her lip to keep from arguing. "You're the best damn thing that's ever happened to me, don't think for a minute that you're not. You saved me Selina."

"It was my fault Newman was after you anyway," Selina muttered.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"I know," Selina said, tipping her head so that her forehead rested against his. "I just wish it wasn't true."

"I love you Selina," Bruce said without a moment's hesitation and Selina's eyes snapped open. "I love you and I would not trade this for anything." Selina didn't answer, just kissed him, winding her hands though his gelled hair. Bruce lifted her as if she weighed nothing and suddenly her back was against the wall. Selina gasped as Bruce's mouth dropped to her collarbone, training hot kisses all the way up her neck.

"I love you too," she breathed in his ear. "I love you too."

"Okay it's – oh God," Ivy swore and Bruce nearly dropped Selina in surprise. "Jesus shit, guys. Time and place."

"Your timing is absolutely horrible," Selina complained, her cheeks flushed bright red.

"Yeah, yeah everyone wants to get laid. I want my girlfriend to not get shot in the head, so if you're going to slum it, billionaire, you need to go. Here." She threw the doctored clothes at him and Bruce caught them without a word, ducking his head and all but running out of the room. Ivy burst into laughter the minute he cleared the door.

"I hate you," Selina grumbled.

"Oh my God that's the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen. Did you see the look on his face?" Ivy was laughing so hard her face turned as red as her hair, and she actually fell over. "Great technique by the way. Very hot make-out session I just interrupted." Ivy was still laughing when Bruce came back. For the first time Selina thought that maybe, just maybe, he could look the part. She didn't know what Ivy did to his clothes, but they were just about as ragged as possible without completely falling apart. Selina ran her hands through his hair once more, and then he was ready.

"Would I make it on the streets?" Bruce asked, striking a pose.

"Not even close, but you look the part," Selina said, taking a step back to admire their work. "Yeah, you're not going to get shanked on the spot."

"That's quite the compliment."

"Oh just go so you can come back," Selina said, bringing his lips down to meet hers. "Don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"You're cute when you care."

"I'm cute all the time."

"And you're making me gag," Ivy cut in. Selina threw her a look but Bruce laughed, kissed Selina once more, and then left. "Come on, you can pine after your boyfriend and help me make Alfred's medication at the same time."

"Wait. Hold up. Are you jealous?" Selina asked, catching her tone. Ivy stuck out her tongue. "You _ar0e_ jealous!"

"I am not," Ivy said, pouting.

"You're such a hypocrite," Selina teased, dancing away as Ivy swung at her. "I was perfectly happy for you and Harley – I actually think Harley thought you were cheating on her with me the first time we met."

"She did actually."

"And I explained everything because I am a good friend. But you're jealous. Ivy Pepper green is not your color. Speaking of, you should check out the gardens here, they're pretty." Selina didn't know shit about plants and honestly didn't care about horticulture but Ivy was always growing things in the widowboxes of her apartment. More often than not, they were poisonous, but that was beside the pint.

"We can all go together," Ivy said extending her arm. "It'll be the weirdest double-date ever."

"Well when have our lives ever been normal?" Selina asked, catching her elbow as they strode through the halls. "Dating. We're _both_ dating, V. During a mob war."

"Yeah and _my_ timing is terrible," Ivy snickered before sobering abruptly. "We're going to figure this out, you know that right? You and I are going to be fine, we're going to kick Gerard in the teeth and then we'll out Falcone. I'm Ivy Pepper and you're Selina fucking Kyle and they can't stop us." Selina didn't know if she believed that, but Ivy was one hell of a speaker.

"No, they can't."

Selina, Ivy, and Alfred puttered around the mansion, laughing and trading stories while the medication Ivy was making boiled and simmered. Alfred told them about when he was in the army – mostly of traveling, leaving out the bits about combat. Selina and Ivy regaled him with stories of their upbringing in the Narrows. The more legal ones, that is. Despite being homeless, broke, and terrified, the two of them had had some good times, and they often cut each-other off to get to tell the good parts, resulting in much swearing and only one a broken vase. Alfred wasn't too pleased about that. Selina couldn't wait to share with Bruce and Harley when they came back.

They didn't come back. Only an hour had gone by, so Selina wasn't suspicious, until her phone started ringing.

"Gerard?" Selina answered warily, fear and old instincts already raising the hair on the back of her neck.

"Selina," he purred. "You know, when I had my people watch Ivy's apartment, I expected her to come back. Leverage, you understand. I knew you'd never kill me if I had your girl." Selina's blood went cold and she nearly dropped the phone, but managed to put it on speaker. "Imagine my surprise when a young man came to the door to get Ivy's girlfriend!" Ivy had to clap her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming and Selina felt the same. Her heart raced in her chest as scenarios and possibilities whirred in her head. He had them. Gerard had them. Her knew about the assassination and he had Bruce and Harley. How was this possible? "Selina? Are you still there darling?"

"Proof of life," Selina managed to grind out. "I want proof of life you sick son of a bitch."

"Say hi to your lovely Selina, Mister Wayne," Gerard said and Alfred swore colorfully.

He knew who Bruce was, he'd made the connection. Selina had damn near thrown it in his face.

"Selina." Bruce's voice was tight but he didn't sound injured, for all that was worth.

"Selina, don't do anything stupid, it's a trap, it – " His voice gave way to a shout of pain

and there was the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting flesh. Selina grit her teeth so hard she thought they might shatter.

"And Ivy. It was a pity you had to get a civilian involved. Especially one so pretty."

"Ivy?" Harley's voice was high and scared. "Ivy I'm sorry, I – " Her voice cut out too, but only because Gerard took back the phone.

"Proof of life. Now, I suggest a trade. Your people for you. Now, obviously you will have to die, but I think that's fair. And afterwards, you'll take the fall for the coup and everything will be as it should."

"They know it's you," Selina snarled. He knew she was being sent to kill him, why did he think he could get away with blaming it on her? "They know you're the one working with Maroni."

"But if I get rid of the bitch who's been sneaking around and working for both sides, then I'll be in their good graces again," Gerard explained. He was crazy. It would never work; they'd just send someone else to get rid of him. But there was a desperate edge to his voice that hadn't been there before. Gerard was grasping at straws and Selina had given him a lifeline. "You're being very quiet Selina, and I can't have you thinking too hard. So, you will come to the bar and make the trade within the hour, or I will give them back to you. In pieces." The line went dead and Selina swore, slamming her fist down on the counter.

" _Fucking dammit_!" Ivy went very quiet, but she was arranging vials on the counter, pulling needles out of her pockets and filling the syringes. Selina didn't have to guess that they were poisons.

"So." Ivy said, her voice cold and dead. "We are going to go get our people back, and we're going to kill every son of a bitch in there." Selina rotated her wrists, grabbing her knives when they were deposited into her hands. She gave Alfred an even stare.

"You still against killing, Jeeves?"

"No." Alfred said very calmly, pulling out his gun and clicking the safety off. "As you say, let's get the bastards."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is near. Can you feel it?


	25. The End

"Selina," Ivy said, snapping her out of her own head. "I know you like the whole 'strong and silent' vibe, but we need your input. You know Gerard best."

"There's only one entrance," Selina replied dully. She hadn't spoken since Gerard hung up the phone.

"We're going to get them back, Sel. Bet your life on it." Ivy put her hand over Selina's and she yanked it away. No, they weren't. Gerard wasn't stupid, and if the three of them busted in there, guns blazing, he'd kill Bruce and Harley for sure. If it was just Selina, he'd still probably kill them, but at least they'd have a fighting chance.

"Miss Selina, are you quite alright?" Alfred asked, looking concerned.

"Not really," Selina ground out. "The world kind of went to shit, or hadn't you noticed? Gerard's insane and he's got two of the only people in the world that can be used to blackmail Ivy and me." Alfred tried to lay his hand on her shoulder and Selina spun out of his grip. "Just give me a minute, will you?" she snapped. Alfred and Ivy didn't follow. Which was probably for the best because neither of them were going to forgive her.

She'd done the math. The only chance Bruce and Harley had was if she went alone. Gerard was insane, but he considered himself a gentleman. Unless he felt threatened, he would keep his word. Selina could get them out. It was their only shot, and it was a death sentence. Before she could change her mind, Selina hung a quick left, slipping into the room where Alfred has stashed her knives the last time she'd gone postal. No doubt Gerard would disarm her the minute she stepped through the door, but it made her feel safer for the time being. Forcing her breathing to remain even, Selina ran into the garage, swiping the keys to the Harley Davidson off of the wall and hitting the switch for the mechanic door.

"System override: Safekeep. Lockdown mode." Selina said, pressing the intercom button on the wall. Bruce taught her all of the security protocols months ago. She punched in the passcode and jumped on the bike, revving the engine and screaming out onto the driveway before the protocol locked the mansion down tight. She just made it onto the street before the gates sealed themselves closed. Within seconds her phone was vibrating in her pocket.

" _What the fuck do you think you're doing_?" Ivy demanded and Selina felt a sob building in her throat. "You get back here right now."

"He'll kill them," Selina said, weaving around traffic and barely avoiding a fire hydrant. "You know that if anyone else shows, he'll kill the both of them. This is the only way it works."

"He'll kill _you_ ," Ivy screeched, sounding seconds away from tears. Or blowing something to kingdom come. "Selina, please, come back. We'll figure something out."

"Ivy, I'm going to get Harley back for you. Just…tell Al to take care of Bruce for me, okay?"

"Selina, don't – " Ivy said desperately.

"Love you V," Selina said, dropping her phone onto the street. It shattered against the concrete, taking Ivy's voice with it. Selina ditched the bike a few streets away from the bar, making sure to toss the license plate in a dumpster. She didn't get within a block of the bar before two enormous guys stopped her, grinning like idiots.

"You're coming with us," one of them said. Selina rolled her eyes, making a show of it, and swallowed her fear.

"No shit," she snapped. "Feel free to walk behind but if either of you morons touches me, you'll lose a hand." The two guys looked at each other, confused. Clearly, Gerard had expected her to come quietly, or at least show some semblance of fear.

"You're…coming with us," the others said, sounding a little more unsure. He grabbed Selina shoulder and she sprang away from him, jerking her wrists to the right and stabbing clean through the meat of his hand. Not exactly clean off, but it was good enough. The man howled, blood gauntleting his arm when Selina ripped her knife away.

"Don't whine, it's not going to kill you," Selina said offhandedly. "I make no promises for next time. We clear? Good." Selina didn't wait for them and left the man bleeding in the street, striding into the bar like she owned it. It didn't take her long to assess the situation and realize how completely screwed she was. Gerard had Bruce and Harley tied up in plain sight with one of his goons behind both of them, holding guns to their heads. Wonderful. Selina didn't look at them for more than a moment, too afraid that her mask of cavalier indifference would slip. For his part, Gerard had two men flanking him and he stood with his arms crossed over his chest, smirking smugly.

"Ah my darling Selina," he said coolly. "You came more quickly than I expected. Where is Marco?"

"I told him not to touch me," Selina said, making sure her voice was unwavering. "He did. I think he'll be favoring his right for a while. Just a heads up."

"Oh, you never fail to disappoint me," Gerard said, smiling like a proud parent. An incredibly deranged parent, but proud.

"Let them go," Selina said, gesturing to Bruce and Harley without looking at them. Gerard's face fell.

"All business as usual."

"Cut the shit Gerry," Selina said and Gerard made a face at the nickname. "You got me here, just like you wanted. There's no one else coming. Now let them leave."

"I don't think I will," Gerard said and Selina clenched her jaw. "See, your Ivy is a valuable resource, and Miss Harley can be used to control her. And you…well you managed to nab the crown prince of Gotham. I didn't think you had it in you. Regardless, he's worth a significant sum of money and – " Selina didn't let him finish. She'd seen enough bad movies to know what happened when the villain stopped monologuing, Still one moment and moving the next, she hurled three of her knives at him as hard as she could. Without waiting to make sure they hit their targets, Selina threw herself across the room, barely dodging bullets from four different guns. She dove behind the bar, giving herself a moment to breathe before darting into the open again, stabbing the man holding Bruce in the leg and the neck and using his body as a shield as the other opened fire.

"Jesus shit I hate guns," Selina swore to herself, ripping the pistol out of her body shield's hand and firing over his shoulder. The man holding Harley screamed as a bullet tore into his chest and fell over, and then everything was silent. Selina stood slowly, the world tilting when she saw what she'd done. There was blood everywhere, blood and bodies. "Oh my God," she whispered, feeling bile creep up the back of her throat. Forcing herself not to hurl, Selina staggered over to Bruce, slicing the cord around his wrists before doing the same for Harley.

"You okay?" Bruce asked, ripping the gag out of his mouth. His eyes were dark and unreadable.

"That's my line," Selina said shakily. Blood pooled on the ground, soaking into her shoes. "I think I'm going to throw up."

"Hey hey, you're alright," Bruce said, catching her before she could tip over and fall. "You saved us."

"I killed them. Oh my God, I killed them," Selina said, her voice breaking. She buried her face in his chest before he could see the tears track down her cheeks.

"You didn't have a choice," Bruce said, stroking her curly hair. "He didn't give you a choice."

"I – _move_ ," Selina shrieked, looking up to see Gerard shakily stand and take aim. With all her strength, Selina shoved Bruce away from her, and then two things happened at the same time: The door burst open and something slammed into Selina's midsection, sending her staggering. Someone caught her before she could fall, and for a moment Selina thought it was Bruce before the cold metal of a gun muzzle was pressed against her temple.

"I didn't think you had it in you," Gerard hissed in her ear. Selina's head lolled, resting against his shoulder. It took her a moment to realize who'd broken down the door.

"Selina!" Ivy's voice sounded like it was coming from far away but her shock of red hair was unmistakable. Alfred stood beside her, his face creased and murderous. Harley all but dove behind Ivy, using her body as protection. Only Bruce stood alone. "Let her _go_ , you son of a bitch!"

"Look who came to see you," Gerard said gleefully. "Let her go or what? In case you hadn't noticed, she's already dead." He dug his fingers into her stomach and Selina screamed, pain splintering her vision and bleaching the world of color.

" _Stop it!_ " Ivy cried.

"Now here's what's going to happen," Gerard said calmly. "The rest of you will leave, or I kill her."

"You'll kill her anyway," Alfred spat, leveling his pistol at Gerard's head. Bruce stood beside him, white-lipped and furiously silent, his face completely drained of color.

"Yes, but this is the only way the rest of you have a chance. Come now, surely you see which is the right choice. One person for the rest of you. Be reasonable. Tell them, Selina."

"Go to hell," Selina snarled, biting her lip to keep from screaming when he pressed against the bullet wound again. Blood dribbled down her chin, adding to the red puddles already on the floor.

"After you, darling."

"I'll see you there," Selina ground out, twisting her wrist and spinning into Gerard's grip. In one smooth motion she plunged the knife into his chest and yanked it out again. Gerard stumbled away from her, clutching at the bloody wound staining through his white shirt. As he fell, Gerard raised his arm and fired, and then Selina's world went sideways.

"Selina? _Selina_!" She couldn't tell who was saying her name, but two faces crowded into her line of sight. Something wet fell on her face and it took her a moment to realize that it was a tear.

"Is he dead?" Selina demanded, her heart hammering against her chest and forcing blood out of her body even quicker. "Is he dead, V, is he going to hurt us anymore?"

"No, he's gone. He's never hurting us again." Selina managed a weak smile. Gerard was dead. Gerard was dead and he'd never hurt her people again.

"I got Harley for you," Selina murmured. "I got her."  
"Yeah you did Selly," Ivy said, tears crowding on her lower lashes. Selina reached up and wiped one away, leaving a bloody handprint. "Thank you babe. You did good."

"I…love you Ivy," Selina gasped, feeling like someone was stepping on her chest. She couldn't breathe. Something pricked in her side and Selina winced, adding it to the rest of the pain shooting through her entire body. Everything was heightened, pulsing, hurting. She couldn't get away from any of it, no matter how much she tried. "Bruce…where's Bruce?"

"Hey, I'm here," he said. "You're going to be okay, Selina, you're going to be fine."

"No," Selina said, shaking her head and then winced at the pain that shattered down her spine. "This is bad, billionaire. This…this is really bad…" Her breath hiccupped in her throat and tears streamed down her face. "I don't want to go Bruce…I want to stay with you."

"Help is coming. Alfred called 911. You're going to stay right here with me. I'm not letting you go that easy," Bruce promised, his dark eyes glistening.

"I don't…I don't want to die Bruce." Spots crowded her vision, phasing in and out at random. Her hearing was starting to go as well and she'd already lost feeling in her legs.

"You're not going to die. I love you, Selina. I love you. I love you so much and you're not going to die." With the last of her strength, Selina pulled Bruce down, bringing his lips to hers. When she pulled away, they were painted a garish red.

"I love you too billionaire," she whispered, before her head fell back and then there was nothing.

* * *

 

Three hours later, despite the efforts of paramedics, Selina Kyle was pronounced dead. Three hours later, Bruce Wayne sat in the lobby of the hospital, too numb to feel anything. When he could finally move, Alfred drove him home and when Bruce was left alone in his office, he tore it apart. Nothing escaped and when everything was in pieces or ripped to shreds, Bruce finally collapsed on the couch, laid his head in his hands, and cried.

Nearly twelve hours later, a girl with red hair and an old man went into the hospital empty handed, and left with a body bag. Nearly twelve hours later, a Jane Doe was checked into a hospital across town and placed under twenty-four-hour watch. And when she was strong enough, the Jane Doe was airlifted out of the country.

Two months later, she woke from a medically-induced coma and found a fake ID and passport waiting for her, along with a neat, one-page letter. Two months later, the American Jane Doe disappeared into the London crowds and was never heard from again. And over the next five years, a thief began to rise to prominence in London's criminal underground. She stayed off the radar and was never caught, and authorities never had a photo of her to go on, just a codename: Catwoman. One day she just up and disappeared, and Scotland Yard was happy to be rid of her.

Five years after the death of Selina Kyle, Catwoman came home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote. Thank you to everyone who has read and commented, you all are the best readers a girl could ask for, and your comments and support made this fic so much fun for me. Best to you all.


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